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DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 
































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Frontispiece — Doughnuts and Diplomas . 

46 RESTING AGAINST THE WALL WAS AN OPEN LATIN GRAMMAR 



DOUGHNUTS 
and DIPLOMAS 


by ✓ 

Gabrielle E. Jackson 

Author of “Caps and Capers “ Pretty 
Polly Perkins “ Denise and Ned 
Poodles," “By Love's Sweet Pule," 
etc., etc. 


With illustrations 


by C. M. Relyea 




PHILADELPHIA 
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY 



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THE LIBRARY OF 
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NOV. 6 190 ? 

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copy a 


Copyright, 1902, by Henry Altemus. 


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Doughnuts and Diplomas. 





THE TRUE “FRANCES,” 

WHOSE COURAGE 

AND STRENGTH OF PURPOSE HAVE OVERCOME ALL 
OBSTACLES, AND WON FOR HER 
AN ENVIABLE PLACE IN THE HEARTS OF HER FRIENDS, 
THIS LITTLE BOOK, 

WHICH CAN NEVER DO THE ORIGINAL JUSTICE, 

IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 


BY THE 

AUTHOR 





. 



























4 








CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 






PAGE 

I. 

Loaves and Latin 

• 

. 

• 

• 

15 

II. 

First Steps .... 

• 


• 

• 

29 

III. 

As “Paying Guest” . 

• 


• 

• 

41 

IV. 

“Little Sunshine” . 

• 


• 

• 

53 

V. 

New Ventures 

• 


• 

• 

67 

VI. 

Atalanta Comes to Grief . 

• 


• 

• 

79 

VIL 

At Indian Point . 

• 


• 

• 

93 

VIII. 

A Sudden Shower 

• 


• 

• 

103 

IX. 

Doughnuts .... 

• 


• 

• 

117 

X. 

Thanksgiving Orders . 

• 


• 

• 

133 

XI. 

Frances’ Thanksgiving 

• 


• 

• 

147 

XII. 

As Adopted Daughter 



• 

• 

163 

XIII. 

Home Number Six 



• 

• 

173 

XIV. 

Freshman Year . 



• 

• 

181 

XV. 

The Early Bird Catches a 

Worm 


• 

• 

191 

XVI. 

“Polly was a Hummer” . 

• 


• 

• 

203 

XVII. 

Getting up Steam 

• 


• 

• 

215 

XVIII. 

One Day’s Doings 

• 


• 

• 

227 

XIX. 

Someone’s Else Doings 

• 


• 

• 

237 

XX. 

“Then Came Still Evening On” 


• 

• 

249 

XXI. 

Newton Comes to the Rescue . 


• 

• 

259 

XXII. 

An Every-day Santa Claus 



• 

• 

271 

XXIII. 

Frances’ First Step Towards Fame 

• 

• 

283 

XXIV. 

“ Polly Set Great Store by 

It” 


• 

• 

295 

XXV. 

Mrs. Fern Startles the Community 

• 

• 

3°9 

XXVI. 

Diplomas .... 





321 

XXVII. 

“Polly” the Second 

• 


• 

• 

335 

XXVIII. 

A Home at Last 

• 


• 

• 

345 


(ix) 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Resting against the wall was an open Latin 

Grammar” 

“ There was nothing narrow about the 
person confronting her” 

“ What in the name of all that ’s reasonable 
have I run up against? ” 

“‘Rest and luxuriate while you have a 

chance’” 

“ ‘ I vill vid mine gun you shoot 1 ’ ” 

“‘Be good enough to send up another 
pitcher, will you ?’ ” . 

“‘What do you think has happened to 

me?’” 

“ ‘ Hi ! hi ! hi ! Just in time for dinner 1 , 

“ ‘Allow me to offer you my heartiest con- 
gratulations . 

“‘I’m the proudest man in Long- 
mead ’ ” 


Frontispiece. 


y 


. facing page 

36 ' 

tt 

MS 

tt 

128 

It 

196 

it 

260 

1 

It 

292 

tt 

304 

tt 

328 ^ 

tt 

(xi) 

348 { 














t 












a 


* 

















% 












CHARACTERS IN THE STORY. 


Younger members of the Fern family. 


Frances Farwell Fern, a young woman who “ arrived.” 
Mrs. Fern, mother of Frances. 

John Fern, 

Edwin Fern, 

Ethel Fern, 

Morton Fern, 

Nelson Fern, 

Mrs. Beldon, Mistress of “ Sillysham Cottage.”' 

Bessie Beldon, “ Dear Bessie. ” 

Mrs. Eames, a gracious hostess. 

Pansy Eames, otherwise “Sunshine.” 

Miss Bond, manager of the exchange. 

Mrs. Barker, a famous nurse. 

Miss Porter, a maiden lady. 

Frau Schmidt, the Yankee wife of a Dutchman. 

Amelia Schmidt, “ Miss Amelia.” 

Herr Schmidt, an expert at “marketing.” 

Samuel Broadhead Wood, the prince of landlords. 
Newton Wardwell Eames, a jolly chum. 

Dr. Hazleton, a clergyman, 

Dr. Bland, a physician. 

Professors, Teachers, Students, Boarders, Storekeepers, Hack- 
drivers, Servants, etc. 

( X iii) 












































/ 
























DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


CHAPTER I 
LOAVES AND LATIN 

T HE little village of Mitonville, nestling at 
the foot of the Adirondack Mountains, 
was a sleepy little place where life went 
tranquilly on from one year’s end to the next. 
Its inhabitants were perfectly content if “the 
daily question ” resolved itself into a modest 
provision for the daily needs. 

Into a neat kitchen of one*of the unpretentious 
homes of this little town the sun shone brightly 
one morning and cast its friendly rays upon 
a young girl who stood at the table kneading 
great loaves of bread. There were seven of them 
— evidently the baking for a large family — and 

15 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


plump, wholesome looking loaves they were. 
She was a handsome girl, with wonderful dark 
brown, oval-shaped eyes, so heavily fringed with 
dark lashes as to make them look almost black, 
and suggest from their color, shape and size a 
remote French ancestor. The massive coils of 
dark hair made one wonder what the length of 
it must be when released from the heavy shell 
pins and combs which held it in place upon the 
shapely head. It was soft, wavy hair, and the 
little locks which escaped the pins curled most 
bewitchingly over the broad forehead. The nose 
was clearly cut as a cameo, and the mouth firm, 
yet very tender. The chin might have been called 
aggressive but for the faintest suspicion of a dim- 
ple exactly in the middle. The girl was about 
middle height, and well formed, with still another 
hint of sunny France in the shapely hands. 

Resting against the wall at the back edge of 
the table was an open Latin Grammar, and as 
she worked at the loaves of bread, pounding and 
thumping vigorously with her strong, bare arms, 
16 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


her tongue kept time with the thumping as she 
conned over : “Hie, haec, hoc ; huius, huius, 
huius” 

Presently the sound of footsteps drew near — 
half halting steps, as if the person taking them 
were uncertain of the way, and a moment later 
the door opened and a child entered the kitchen. 

“Oh, here you are, Frances! I have been 
searching all over for you,” she said, as she 
made her way slowly across the kitchen, and 
clasped her arms about the girl at the table. A 
green shade worn close over the eyes explained 
the hesitating steps. She was nearly blind. 

“ Yes, Chickie, here I am. What can I do for 
you ? ” was the cheerful answer. 

“Oh, Frances, I’m so tired of trying to do 
things all alone, and mother is busy stitching. 
Can you help me with this knitting ? Somehow 
I can’t get it right,” and she held up a spool 
upon which she was “ spool-knitting ” horse- 
reins for the baby of the family, little Nelson. 

“In just a jiffy, dear. Wait till I get the 
17 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


flour off my fingers and tlie loaves in tlie oven/’ 
and, hurrying about, Frances soon had the bread 
shut behind the oven door and all made tidy. 

“ Now, let me see,” and, taking the child’s spool, 
she quickly undid the snarl. “ There, now, you 
can go on like a race-horse,” she said, as she 
gave the work back. 

“ Who were you talking to when I came in?” 
asked Edith. 

“ No one,” answered Frances, in surprise. 

“Yes, you were; I heard you,” the child 
insisted. 

Frances laughed. 

“ Were you studying again ? Why do you ? ” 

“ Because I expect some day to do wonderful 
things and become famous. 

“ Mother does n’t like you to fuss with books all 
the time. She says you waste loads of time por- 
ing over them when you might be helping her.” 

“ I am helping her, only she does n’t know 
it,” was the cheery reply. “ If I can pass the 
Regents’ Examination, won’t it be better than 
18 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


stitching gloves ? I might do that all my days, 
and yet never be able to help you and the boys. 
I want to earn enough to send you all through col- 
lege, and I’m going to do it, too ! See if I don’t ! ” 

“Oh, you never, never can! Just think 
what it would cost.” 

“ I know that, but you ’ll see, Chickie,” and 
Frances stooped over and kissed the child 
lightly upon the cheek. 

“ Oh, but, Frances, you must n’t go away ! 
What should I do without you ? ” demanded the 
little girl, in a dismayed voice. 

“ You won’t have to do without me ; I shall 
take you along, too. We ’ll be famous cronies. 
See if we ’re not. But now come along with me, 
and while I darn the stockings we ’ll sing the 
multiplication table together.” 

Frances Fern was now seventeen, and ever 
since the death of her hither, five years before 
her seventeenth birthday, she had practically 
been the head of the household. There were 
six children, Frances being the eldest. Then 
19 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


came John, who was now fifteen, and had 
already gone into one of the glove factories of 
a neighboring town, where he was doing re- 
markably well for a boy of' his age and giv- 
ing fair promise of the future. Then Edwin, 
who was still in the grammar school, and who, 
despite Frances , strong desire that he should en- 
ter the high school in the same town where 
John was working, persisted in his determina- 
tion of becoming a grocer’s clerk. She had 
urged him to a higher ambition, but her words 
were useless. So she gave up arguing the point, 
hoping that time would bring him more exalted 
aspirations. 

Meanwhile her hopes centered in the younger 
children : Ethel, ten; Morton, eight; Nelson, the 
five-year-old baby. With the ambition which 
should have been their mother’s did this elder 
sister plan and struggle for the future. Mr. 
Fern had left the family a small income, upon 
which, by the greatest care and frugality, they 
had managed to live. 


20 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


Mrs. Fern, a very capable woman in many 
respects, was a “ Jill at all trades, and mistress 
of none.” She could turn her hand to anything, 
and do most things well if she chose, but she was 
sadly lacking in concentration. 

A bit of work undertaken one day with the 
most unbridled energy would be dropped the 
next, and possibly would not be completed for 
weeks, if ever. . It was exactly the same with 
everything she did, from taking a walk to clean- 
ing house. If she started out with the inten- 
tion of visiting a certain friend or a store, she 
was sure to change her mind before reaching her 
destination. If she began house-cleaning, the 
house was torn up from garret to cellar, but be- 
fore it could be restored to order the paroxysm 
of energy would subside and chaos reign until 
systematic Frances came to the rescue. Had 
Mrs. Fern been in a different station of life, or 
had her environment been of a different sort, she 
would doubtless have developed into an exceed- 
ingly brilliant woman, for she possessed a won- 

2 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


derfully active mind, was exceptionally quick to 
see tlie ludicrous side of anything, and had the 
power to make others also see this side. The 
commonest, every-day happenings of her own 
village, told in her inimitably funny style, took 
on an entirely new light, and gave the keenest 
amusement to her hearers. 

So fanny had some of these accounts been at 
times that friends who recognized her peculiar 
power of portrayal had urged her to write articles 
for the local papers, but she had invariably an- 
swered : “ Pooh, it would n’t be worth wasting 
time over. Some day I ’ll write som thing worth 
while.” But the time had never yet come. The 
mind had never been trained, and was like some 
fine piece of mechanism placed in the hands of 
one ignorant of its use. The power was there, 
but there was no master-hand to start and guide 
it properly. 

She was devoted to her children, but would 
have spoiled them uttterly, could they have been 
spoiled, for any idea of systematic training never 


22 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


entered her mind, and what she sanctioned one 
day she condemned the next. 

Had not Frances been the balance-wheel ever 
since she could understand the situation, it is 
hard to fancy what might have developed, but 
from a tiny child she had guided her mother, 
without her mother’s ever suspecting it, and by 
her tact and forethought the young girl had ac- 
tually kept the family together. Sheer perse- 
verance had carried her through the grammar 
school, and now she had entered the high school, 
where she was doing her utmost to finish the 
coarse. The school building was in a neighbor- 
ing town, and she had no means of reaching it 
but by walking. The distance was fully three 
miles, and to make her way through the heavy 
snows of that northern latitude was impossible 
once winter set in in earnest. This was her last 
year, and during the previous ones she had 
walked to and fro as long as the weather per- 
mitted ; but when it grew too cold and stormy 
she had gone to stay at South End with friends, 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


assisting with the housework to pay for her 
board. During the previous summer Edith, her 
pet, had been in very delicate health, and had 
become partially blind. Owing to this, Frances 
felt that she must remain at home until the little 
girl’s health was quite restored, and so had 
adandoned her own plans for the time. She 
kept up her studies, nevertheless, doing the 
best she could without daily instruction, and 
striving with all her might to fit herself to pass 
the Regents’ Examination in the spring. Mean- 
time, she acted as nurse, housekeeper and gen- 
eral factotum of the establishment, for Mrs. Fern 
hated housework, and was only too glad to find 
so efficient a deputy. Besides, the mother had 
let everything drop in order to gallop her latest 
hobby. It was a funny enough one, too. 

One day, while Mrs. Fern was making some 
purchases in the village store, a brisk, bustling 
body came in, and, depositing a huge bundle 
upon the counter, said : “ There ! — if I be n’t 
about tuckered out, I ’d like ter know ! Hev 


24 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


ye seen sign er Abe hereabouts, Mr. Finny ? He 
said he ’d fetch along and tote this bundle er 
gloves over ter the factory fer me. There ’s 
forty dozen of ’em in thar ! v thumping the stout 
bundle, “and they ’ll fetch me nigh on ter five 
dollars ! ” and she looked triumphantly at modest 
Mr. Finny. 

At this Mrs. Fern turned around and looked 
at the woman, who, feeling herself of no little 
importance, was not slow to nod reassuringly and 
start the recital of her prowess. 

“ Yis; that ’s true. I stitched ’em every pair. 
I ’ve got one er them machines what stitches 
fancy stitches up an’ down ther backs er kid 
gloves, an’ I do it so good that they give me all 
I kin do. I git a cent a pair fer ’em, an’ when I 
work right smart I kin turn out a pile, I tell 
yer ! ” and she nodded her head triumphantly. 

“ How do you get them, and where do you get 
the machine?” asked Mrs. Fern. 

“ I hired it fust, an’ then I bought it. Least- 
wise, Abe — that ’s my husban’ — paid fer it ; but 
25 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


I reckon I ’ve earned enough ter settle up fer it 
if I want ter. But I ’m a settlin’ up our mort- 
gage, an’ if I kin do that , I ’ll answer fer it that 
he does t’ other. Abe has ter drive ter South 
End ’bout once er week, an’ he fetches an’ car- 
ries fer me.” 

After a little more talk pro and con, Mrs. 
Fern’s resolution was taken. She would stitch 
gloves and achieve riches ! If others did so, why 
not she? Without saying one word to Frances, 
she made arrangements with “Abe” to bring 
her the necessary machine and a gross of gloves; 
and one day when Frances came home from a 
day spent with her aunt she found her mother 
stitching away as though her life depended upon 
her earnings. True, all the dinner-dishes still 
stood unwashed upon the kitchen-sink, and not 
one step had been taken toward preparing sup- 
per, although it was long past five o’clock. But 
two dozen pairs of kid gloves had a fine array 
of stitching up their glossy backs, even if the 
money spent in the purchase of the stitching- 
26 


LOAVES AND LATIN 


machine had been the careful savings of many 
months for the spring clothing for the family. 

Frances was almost in despair, for she had 
denied herself many things that winter in order 
to lay aside from time to time small sums of 
money toward the replenishing of the family 
wardrobe, and now the little hoard was simply 
wiped out, there being nothing in the world to 
show for it but the heavy, lumbering machine 
that required every atom of energy possessed by 
the not over-robust woman who used it. It 
would be months before she could earn the price 
of the machine, even if she retained her health. 

But it was useless to say anything. The mis- 
chief was done, and Mrs. Fern for the time being 
was lost to everything but glove-stitching. 
Frances could only hope that the mania would 
last long enough to realize some return for the 
money spent, and that her mother’s health would 
sustain the strain. 

So again Frances came nobly forward to fill 
the breach. She and Edith were now indeed 


27 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the heads of the household, for directly break- 
fast was over Mrs. Fern vanished, and only the 
steady clumpty-clump of the ponderous machine 
betrayed her presence in the house. 

The advent of that glove-stitching demon 
seemed to have been just one grain too many in 
the scale of Frances’ patience, and for the past 
month she had been quietly laying her plans 
to take a step which would doubtless cause a 
general uprising in the family. Still, come 
what might, she was resolved to carry out her 
plan, for she felt convinced that the hour for 
action had arrived. 


28 


CHAPTER II 
FIRST STEPS 

“TTBNWOODJ Kenwood! All out for 
|\ Kenwood ! ” shouted the brakeman 
at the car-door, as the train drew up 
at the pretty station of a little town which had 
crept up the side of the mountain from the inland 
valley till it had reached the summit and could 
peer over the sheer cliff to* the magnificent Hud- 
son, flowing six hundred feet below. It lay 
upon the steep hillside as though it had flung 
itself there after a long walk, and, finding the 
spot wonderfully alluring, had settled down for 
a long rest. 

It was six o’clock when Frances alighted 
from the car that evening in early April, and 
the station was alive with bustling hackmen, 


29 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


b a ggag e - men and people who had come to meet 
friends, or were about to take the train for towns 
further up the line. She felt strangely lonely 
in the hurrying throng, for this was her first 
“littly journey in the world,” and it had not 
been such a little one after all, for she had 
traveled since the morning before, and was 
thoroughly tired out by the new experience. 

A hack man hurried up to her to ask if she 
wished a hack. Not knowing the distance, she 
handed him her check, bidding him get her 
trunk. 

“ Dis a-way, Miss, dis a-way. De kerrige is 
des at de kawner,” ssCid the polite old darkey, 
bowing and scraping, and pointing with his 
hand toward one of the waiting hacks. Then 
handing her in, off he hurried, and a moment 
later returned bearing her trunk upon his 
shoulder. She gave him her address, and he 
opened his mouth in a wide grin, then, jumping 
up with surprising alacrity for one of his age, 
whipped up his horses and started off. They 
30 


FIRST STEPS 


rolled quickly out of the grounds surrounding 
the railway station, turned a corner, drove up 
the street one block and stopped. 

Frances sat still, thinking that the man must 
have misunderstood the address she had given ; 
but, flinging open the door, he announced with a 
flourish of his hand : “ Dis am yo’ destinashum, 
Miss ! ” 

“ What ? ” she demanded. “ Is this Mrs. 
Beldon’s house? Just one block from the station, 
and I have taken a carriage for that distance ? ” 

“You certain has, Miss,” was the suave 
reply. “ Step right in, an’ I ’ll car’ up de 
trunk.” 

Frances stepped from the hack to enter a 
narrow gateway, from which a narrow path led 
to a narrow door. “ I wonder if everything else is 
equally narrow?” she murmured to herself; but 
just then the door was flung open, and her 
doubts regarding the proportions of at least one 
of the appurtenances of the establishment were 
sat at rest, for there was nothing narrow about 
3 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the woman confronting her. She filled the door- 
way completely. Indeed, she might be said to 
overflow it, for she spread out in all directions, 
and Frances began to wonder if she was to get 
into the house at all. Extending one chubby 
hand to the travel-worn girl standing upon the 
door-mat, Mrs. Beldon cried in a funny little 
high-pitched voice, out of all proportion to the 
monstrous woman who uttered the words : 

“This is Miss Fern, I presume?” So glad 
to see you ! You must be just tired to de-a-t-h ! 
Travelin’ is so fatiguing ! You look ready to 
d-r-o-p. But do come in,” backing slowly from 
the doorway. “Yes, yes, Solomon, take Miss 
Fern’s trunk right up to the south chamber. 
You know my house. Tee hee-hee ! Old friend 
of mine, Miss Fern. “ Could n’t keep house 
without Solomon. Come right into the sittin’- 
room and sit down. Dear Bessie, my daughter, 
Miss Fern, is dining out this evening. So sorry 
not to be here to welcome you. Charming girl. 
But, there, I daresay I am partial. Still, I am 


32 


FIRST STEPS 


sure you will quite fall in love with her. 
Everybody does. So popular. Can’t begin to 
keep all her engagements. Just shoals of invita- 
tions. Colonel — . But here is my friend Solo- 
mon. N-o-w, Solomon, you don’t want anything 
from Miss Fern for just bringing her to my house. 
She is a dear friend,” and she tapped Frances 
upon the shoulder with a kittenish pat. 

“ I feared I ’se got ter, ma’am. Hab de boss 
arter me lesson I turn in de cash,” and he 
grinned at them both. 

“ How much do I owe you? ” asked Frances, 
thinking that a quarter ought certainly be 
enough for the distance she had ridden. 

“ Half a dollah, Miss. Quatah fo’ de ride, an’ 
quatah fo’ de trunk.” 

Frances took a fifty-cent piece from her purse 
and handed it to him with the remark : “ Do 
you charge twenty-five cents a block in 
Kenwood ? ” 

“Hit seems like dat, Missee. It sartin do. 
Kenwood prices don’t take no back seat.” 

33 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ It ’s dreadful ; really dreadful/’ cried her 
hostess. “ But what can one do ? Prices are 
no doubt lower in other suburbs, but they are 
not Kenwood . I simply could not exist without 
the social life of Kenwood. So exclusive ! So 
c-h-a-r-m-i-n-g, don’t you know.” 

Frances gave a sigli and wondered if she 
must listen to this sort of thing indefinitely, then 
taking courage from her very weakness, she 
asked : “ May I go to my room now ? ” 

“ Why, of course. How s-t-u-p-i-d of me. 
You are tired to death! Addie, oh, A-d-d-i-e ! 
Come right here this moment ! Take this dear 
child up to her room, Addie, and just look after 
her the very best you know how, for she is a 
very particular friend of mine, Addie, and I 
love her dearly, dearly ! ” and following this 
assertion with another schoolgirl giggle, she 
fell into a large chair and waved one fat, white 
hand airily. 

Frances’ face was a study as she followed the 
colored maid up a narrow stairway, so narrow 
34 


FIRST STEPS 


that she involuntarily glanced back at the rotund 
figure resting in the big chair by the window, 
and wondered if there were another stairway in 
the house for her especial accommodation. She 
had no time to speculate upon the question, for 
the maid opened a door and showed her into a 
room containing a bed, a washstand and a chair. 
— not another article. The head of the bed 
stood close against the window, the stand at the 
foot of the bed, and the chair at the end of the 
stand. Between these three articles of furniture 
and the wall was just enough space to creep 
along, and even that would be diminished when 
the hooks which lined that side of the wall were 
hung with her clothing. Her trunk stood in 
the hall by the door, as it was simply impossible 
to place it in the room. The maid paused a 
moment to ask if there was anything she could 
do, displaying a perfect set of ivory teeth by her 
ample, good-natured smile. Frances thanked her, 
and said no. Then she closed the door, and, 
without removing her outer garments, sat down 
35 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


upon the edge of the narrow bed and surveyed 
her room. 

“ Well,” she said, “ I have taken my first step 
toward fame and fortune; but if my present 
abode is any prophecy of my future, I had 
better go straight back to Mitonville, for there 
I can at least have a room big enough to turn 
around in, and a bed not stuffed with corn-husks, 
as this one evidently is ! ” and she gave the 
hummocky mattress upon which she was sitting 
a vengeful poke. 

She was still gazing about the barrack-like 
room when the soft tinkle of a bell below stairs 
announced that dinner, or supper, whatever the 
meal was to be, was ready. Hastily springing to 
her feet, she removed her hat and jacket, washed* 
smoothed back the pretty hair, and hurried down 
to the sitting-room, where she found her hostess 
awaiting her. She followed her into the dining- 
room, a pleasant, quaintly furnished room, with 
old mahogany furniture, handsome old silver, 
and china that had been in the family for gene- 
36 



Doughnuts and Diplomas — 2. 

THERE WAS NOTHING NARROW ABOUT THE PERSON CONFRONT- 


ING HER. 7 


See p. 31 


























































































FIRST STEPS 


rations, as she was very soon informed by her 
voluble hostess. Frances had not been at the 
table twenty minutes before she had learned the 
history of nearly every piece of china and 
silver in the room. This cup and saucer, she 
was told, had belonged to “ dear Toby, my 
nephew ; just like a brother to dear Bessie,” and 
this teapot to the “ dear Colonel’s mother,” and 
so on ad infinitum . Poor Frances began to 
think that after all she must lay her weary limbs 
upon the dreadful bed upstairs, when at last a 
lull came, brought about by Mrs. Beldon’s strug- 
gles with a bit of tough steak. Seizing the 
opportunity, Frances lost no time in asking : 

u Have you any other rooms unoccupied, Mrs. 
Beldon? I am afraid that the one you have 
given me will not be large enough.” 

“A 1-a-r-g-e-r room, Miss Fern! Why, 
c-e-r-t-a-i-n-l-y, I have a number of rooms, but 
I do not rent them. I never take boarders , you 
know. I suppose you understood that ! But I 
thought I should like to accommodate you, 

3 — Doughnuts and Diplom is. ^ 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


coming as you have from such a distance, and 
quite alone. And then Dr. Hazel ton begged me 
so hard to consider it. Of course, he is not our 
clergyman ! WE are Episcopalians,” with a 
stately raising of the pudgy face. Mr. Hazelton 
called upon me to ask if I would, as a special 
favor to him, consider receiving within my home a 
young lady who was coming to Kenwood to teach, 
and although I am not particularly interested 
in the 'public school, I said that I would think 
the matter over. Then I thought of dear Bessie, 
and how distressing it would be if she were ever 
forced to go away from home to earn her living — 
which, of course, can never happen, for her 
fortune is too securely invested, d-e-a-r c-h-i-l-d, 
to ever give such a possibility consideration — and 
I simply could not say no to you. But, of 
courseflt room does not s-u-i-t you — ” and 
agai|lnhe corners of the mouth fell, the head 
was thrown back, and the hands folded before 
the well rounded figure. 

“ The room will not be large enough for me, 
33 


FIRST STEPS 


Mrs. Beldon, and if yon have no other you wish 
to rent I must, of course, look further for 
accommodations to-morrow/’ answered Frances 
with some spirit, for she was becoming decidedly 
weary of this patronage. Moreover, she knew 
full well that there was not one word of truth in 
all she heard, and scorned with all her soul 
such flimsy subterfuge. While laying her plans 
in Mitonville she had called upon the pastor of 
the Presbyterian Church in that place to ask his 
advice regarding a place to stay in Kenwood, 
where she had accepted a position as teacher in 
the public school, for Mr. Burd was well 
acquainted with Dr. Hazelton, and wrote to him. 
The reply came promptly, and contained the 
addresses of several boarding houses, but 
specially mentioned one Mrs. Beldon, who, he 
said, never took any save ladies, and each year 
had two or more teachers from the public school 
with her. He added that she was a widow with 
one daughter, and that he thought that such a 
place would be .iust what Miss Fern would wish. 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


So Frances had written to Mrs. Beldon without 
delay, and learned from her that she could give 
her a “ dear little room with a southern expo- 
sure,' ” and also that “ the terms would be five 
dollars a week.” Frances had not yet learned 
the difference between Mitonville prices and 
Kenwood, and although she considered five 
dollars a week a good price, she concluded that 
she must expect to pay more so near the great 
city of New York. She had set out with visions 
of a room at least as large and pleasant as the 
cosy one she was leaving behind her, with its 
ample fifteen by twenty feet, fresh matting upon 
the floor, cheery rugs, and neat oak set of furni- 
ture. And behold the reality ! 

40 


CHAPTER III 
AS “paying guest” 

H AD Frances been in the least superstitions, 
the first days of her venture in quest of 
fame and fortune would certainly have 
brought little encouragement, but she was a 
brave, cheery body, and even in the shallow, 
vain woman beneath whose roof she was for the 
time being obliged to dwell, and in the emotional, 
affected daughter, Frances found something to 
study and marvel at, for she had been brought 
up among people who regarded any honest work 
as honorable, no matter how difficult or how 
disagreeable. In Mitonville no one was rich, as 
riches are counted in this day and age, although 
many had enough to make them well satisfied 
with life, and free from anxiety regarding their 
41 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


old age. But in Kenwood all was different. The 
town, as a nearby suburb to New York, was 
sought, in the first place, for its beautiful situa- 
tion, and next because nearly all its residents 
were refined, cultivated people. 

It was also a town which represented much 
wealth, and in it were many beautiful homes. 
Many of the residents had come to Kenwood 
when the town was in its infancy, and their 
children had grown up with it. Consequently, 
the social life was charming, for both the young 
people and their parents entered into all the 
gayety, and Kenwood was a bright, lively little 
town. Colonel Beldon had been one of the 
pioneers of Kenwood, and up to the time of his 
death, when his daughter was twelve years of 
age, one of its most beloved and respected resi- 
dents. He had never been a man of large means, 
and had built his modest home within easy walk- 
ing distance of the station, saying, in his quaint 
way, that : “ Since my horse was shot under me 
in the Civil War I have never ridden anything 

42 


AS “PAYING GUEST” 


but my hobby, and even that is fast growing de- 
crepit.” 

This mention of his “ hobby,” by the way, 
invariably brought a smile to the lips of his 
friends, for they realized that so long as his wife 
lived the colonel would have small opportunity 
to exercise his hobby. He was an earnest 
thinker, full of kindly words and deeds, and 
anxious to do all within his power to lighten the 
burdens of others, especially the younger portion 
of humanity, and often there was a flock of chil- 
dren in his wake. Many were his secret chari- 
ties, and endless his “ little deeds of kindness.” 
He received absolutely no encouragement and 
small sympathy from his wife, for she disliked 
children, and never for one moment allowed even 
her own daughter to interfere with her outgoings 
or incomings. 

As Bessie grew older and each year prettier, 
for she inherited her father’s fine looks, Mrs. 
Beldon took more interest in the girl, and from 
pushing her aside, lest the child might bar the 
43 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


way to some social enjoyment, the mother now 
took the opposite plan, and brought Bessie for- 
ward upon all occasions, regardless of education, 
health or good taste. Why the girl had not 
been utterly spoiled by her mother’s folly no one 
could understand, for after her father’s death 
hei: training was just what one might expect 
under the direction of such a mother. She 
was now twenty-five years of age, and with the 
character one might naturally expect to find in 
a young woman who for thirteen years had been 
told from one year’s end to the next that “ she 
was just too 1-o-v-e-l-y for w-o-r-d-s!” and that 
“ she must n-e-v-e-r think of marrying, for there 
was not a man upon the earth h-a-l-f good enough 
for her.” 

Into this home came Frances, straight from 
one where truth had been a matter of course, 
vanity conspicuous by its absence, and false pride 
utterly unknown. 

She did not see Bessie until the following 
noon, as Miss Beldon had not risen for break- 


44 


AS “PAYING GUEST” 


fast, and Frances immediately after that meal had 
started in quest of other quarters, for she had 
been unable to bring Mrs. Beldon to any definite 
decision regarding another room. She had called 
upon the people whose names had been sent to 
her, only to learn that every house was filled to 
overflowing, and that there would be no possible 
chance for her to find another room before June. 
So back she trotted to “ Sillysham Cottage,” as 
she had mentally dubbed Mrs. Beldon’s home, 
and found that luncheon was about to be served. 
Mrs. Beldon was graciousness itself, for she had 
had time to talk over the situation with Bessie, 
and Bessie, whose head was just one degree more 
level than her mothers, lost no time in calling 
her mother’s attention to the fact that the three 
teachers who had been with them up to the holi- 
days had sought accommodations elsewhere upon 
their return from their vacation. Moreover, she 
had a pretty correct idea of Frances’ errand that 
morning, and had no wish to have their lodger 
go elsewhere. 


45 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


As she entered the front door Frances was 
greeted with : 

“Oh, Miss Fern, come right in our sittin’- 
room. Luncheon is just ready, and I can’t wait 
another moment to have you meet my dear 
Bessie. She is just longing to know you, and is 
c-li-a-r-m-e-d with my description of you. I am 
s-u-r-e that your right ear must have burned 
while you were out.” 

“In Mitonville we say, ‘left for love and 
right for spite.’ Perhaps you say the same in 
Kenwood, Mrs. Beldon?” answered Frances, with 
a mischievous smile. 

Mrs. Beldon was somewhat disconcerted by 
the calm question, and hastened to reply: “Oh, 
dear, no ! Our saying is ‘right for good and left 
for ill/ but you are just trying to t-e-a-s-e me. 
You sly girl ! ” and Mrs. Beldon patted her 
lightly upon the cheek as she passed her. 
“Bessie, let me make you acquainted with Miss 
Fern; I am sure you must remember having 
heard dear papa speak of Major Fern, and I 
46 


AS “PAYING GUEST 


have n’t the 1-e-a-s-t doubt that it is the same 
family, for they come from the same section of 
the country,” cried Mrs. Beldon, with a fine dis- 
regard for geographical accuracy, for the Major 
Fern of whom she had sometimes heard her hus- 
band speak had been a native of Scranton, Penn- 
sylvania. 

“ The Major Fern of whom papa used to speak 
came from Scranton, Miss Fern. Have you 
relatives there?” asked Miss Beldon, as she 
arose languidly from the couch upon which she 
had been gracefully reclining when Frances en- 
tered. Bessie never missed an opportunity to 
make a good impression, and the scarlet morn- 
ing-robe she wore was in fine contrast to her 
large, dark eyes and hair, and also looked well 
against the Bagdad couch-cover and numerous 
sofa-pillows. 

“ Oh, well, they are so near together that it 
is no doubt the same family of Ferns. Ferns 
are not uncommon, you know; tee hee-hee !” and 
47 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Frances was not unaware of the slight touch of 
sarcasm that prompted the shallow pun. 

Bessie raised her left hand till it was nearly 
upon a level with her lips, extended it languidly 
to Frances, and taking the tips of her fingers 
wagged them gently sidewise once or twice, and 
then let them fall, saying as she did so De- 
lighted to know you, Miss Fern. I hope you 
will find our home pleasant and its atmosphere 
congenial. As mamma has doubtless told you, 
we do not take boarders , but like to have one or 
two ‘paying guests’ with us during the winter 
season, lest we bore each other to extinction, 
don’t you know. It is so difficult to live up to 
one’s reputation, don’t you think so? And 
mamma persists in raising mine to alarming 
altitudes.” 

“ Now., B-e-s-s-i-e ! How can you ? Come 
to luncheon before you can say one more word 
about your mother. Mothers will be partial, 
Miss Fern.” She waddled (no other word will 
express it) into the dining-room, and Frances, 
48 


AS “PAYING GUEST” 


whose healthy young appetite had been duly 
whetted by her long walk, looked in vain for 
something substantial wherewith to satisfy it. 
Upon the mahogany table lay some dainty 
doilies, a prettily embroidered centrepiece and 
a tray scarf. 

Upon these in turn rested a tea tray and ser- 
vice, some very thin slices of bread, a tiny butter 
roll at each place, a plate of saltines, a box of 
sardines and half-a-dozen lady-fingers. That 
was all. 

“We serve a light luncheon,” explained her 
hostess, as they took their seats. Frances re- 
garded the remark as rather unnecessary under 
the circumstances, and doubted if the fact could 
have been more obvious. 

“ By the way,” said Miss Beldon ( after she 
had helped Frances to one very small sardine, 
and begged her to “take some bread with it”), 
“ mamma tells me that you would like to have a 
larger room ; and, of course, you must have if you 
wish it. We placed that one at your disposal 
49 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


because it is always so sunny, and naturally we 
did not know what you would feel disposed to 
pay for accommodations.” 

“ What will be your terms for a larger room, 
Miss Beldon?” asked Frances, thinking that 
it would be easier to come directly to the point 
with the daughter than with the mother. 

“We can give you the east chamber for nine 
dollars a week, Miss Fern ; and although it is 
our regular guest-chamber, I think that we can 
arrange it, for we have not invited anyone to 
visit us this spring.” 

Frances longed to ask if it were a “ paying- 
guest chamber,” and wisely concluded that it 
was, since it was so readily placed at her 
disposal. 

“ That will be more than I can afford to pay, 
Miss Beldon,” she replied. “ I am only come 
on probation, and am, in reality, a substitute, 
you know, having taken the position left vacant 
by the former teacher. My salary will not war- 
rant my paying that price, and if that is the 
5 ° 


AS “PAYING GUEST" 


only other room you have I must try to find 
one somewhere else. I am sorry, but nine dol- 
lars is out of the question for me.” 

“Now, Bessie, we simply c-a-n-’t let this dear 
girl wear herself out searching all over Kenwood 
for a boarding-place. There are a great many 
boarding-houses , Miss Fern, but I should never 
forgive myself if I allowed you go into one of 
them. Your mother would be shocked, I know. 
We can’t t-h-i-n-k of doing so. Now, you must 
take our room for seven dollars a week, and we 
won’t mind the difference in the least. Beally, 
I have taken such a fancy to you that I just 
hate to take anything for it, but you know — well, 
Bessie’s ‘ pin-money ’ — hee, liee ! ” 

“I do not wish you to let me have the room for 
less than you can get from others, Mrs. Beldon,” 
said Frances, trying to give this woman the 
benefit of the doubts whieh would force them- 
selves upon her. 

“ Others ! ” waving her hand airily. “ Others 
do not exist ! We receive only those whom we 
5 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


feel will prove congenial, and I am a most uner- 
ring judge.” 

And, for want of better, Frances remained, 
taking the east chamber, and being made to feel 
from day to day that she was under obligation 
for the privilege, and doing her utmost to sat- 
isfy her reasonably healthy appetite upon just 
half enough food. She consoled herself with the 
thought that it was only a question of a few 
months, for the last of June she must make a 
change. Even now she was casting about her 
for some occupation for the summer, and just as 
she was beginning to think that she must return to 
Mitonville and resume her own studies, an 
opening presented itself. 

52 


CHAPTER IV 


( LITTLE SUNSHINE 


S HORTLY after settling in Kenwood, 
Frances had received a call from Dr. 
Hazelton, and had been asked by him 
to visit the church and Sunday-school. He 
was a man of keen perceptions, and quick to 
recognize true worth. From Mr. Burd he had 
learned somewhat regarding the girl and her 
object in coming so far from home, and he admired 
and respected her for her resolution to win a 
place in the world for herself and her brothers 
and sisters. Dr. Hazelton’s church was beauti- 
fully situated upon one of many terraces leading 
to the cliff, and the congregation was a large 
one. Many of the regular members belonged 


4 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 


53 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to the wealthiest familes of the town, and gave 
generously toward the church’s support, and the 
many charities it maintained. As a social centre 
for the young people of Kenwood it was re- 
nowned far and near, and they were indebted to 
members of the congregation for a large portion 
of their good times. Dr. Hazelton was a man of 
very liberal views, and made religion so attrac- 
tive that his flock fell into the way of doing to 
others as they would have others do unto them, 
without ever suspecting it, and out of that 
sweetest of all teachings grew a wonderfully 
kindly spirit for their fellow-men, and deep 
reverence for the gentle Teacher who strove so 
hard to impress it upon the world while He 
dwelt therein. 

The Sunday following her arrival in Kenwood 
Frances made her way to “ Christ’s Church ; ” 
truly well-named, for those within it strove to 
make it worthy of it. Dr. Hazelton was not 
a brilliant speaker, but his words carried con- 
viction, and, best of all, he lived up to his 
54 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE” 


beliefs and preachings so far as it lay in his 
power to do so. 

After the service was ended he stepped from 
the pulpit and made his way toward the pew in 
which Frances was sitting, for, having been one 
of the first to arrive, she was shown to a pew 
well up toward the front, and after she was in 
her seat others entered it. She took special 
notice of her neighbors, for they had with them 
a little girl about nine years of age, and, loving 
children as she did, Frances could not fail to be 
attracted by this one. 

As Dr. Hazelton drew near, the lady in the 
pew bowed pleasantly to him, and when he 
paused in front of her said : 

“ You see, Dr. Hazelton, that I have made an 
exception to my own rule, and brought Pansy to 
service to-day. 

“ I see,” answered Dr. Hazelton, and then 
turning to the little girl asked : “ And how do 
you like church, little Sunshine?” 

“I like the music, but I don’t understand all 
55 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


you talk about. Marmee says that she will 
explain it to me when we get home, and then I 
guess it will be all right. Marmee knows how 
to make the big words mean something, and 
then we talk about them till all the sense comes 
out,” answered the child, looking up into the 
good man’s face with the sweetest, sunniest smile 
imaginable. 

“ Good ! She is the right sort of Marmee to 
have, is n’t she? Maybe I’ll have to ask her 
for a few hints myself,” and he laughed softly 
at the thought, the words “And a little child 
shall lead them ” flashing through his mind. 
“ How do you do, Mr. Eames ? I must not let 
your family eclipse you altogether. You look as 
though this fine spring weather agreed with 
you,” he said as he shook hands with the gentle- 
man who stood just at the entrance of the pew, 
and whose face gave evidence of the love he 
bore the little maid whose hand he was hold- 
ing. 

“ Pansy and I think that the weather leaves 
56 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE 


nothing to be desired, Dr. Hazelton,” was the 
answer given in a soft, refined voice. 

“ I am glad to hear it,” cried Dr. Hazelton, 
heartily, “ but I came to make you both 
acquainted with a young lady who will make 
Kenwood her home for a time, and whom I wish 
to have like it well enough to remain with us. 
Mrs. Eames, let me present Miss Fern to you. 
Mr. Eames, Miss Fern, and little Miss Pansy, 
otherwise known as ‘ Sunshine V ” 

Mrs. Eames turned toward Frances, shaking 
her hand warmly, and, smiling up into her face, 
said : 

“ Dr. Hazelton has a trick of bringing about 
pleasant surprises, and I do not doubt that this 
is one of them. I am very pleased to know you, 
Miss Fern,” and Mr. Eames added : “ Perhaps 
Dr. Hazelton has already succeeded in finding 
someone to share our pew with us, for Pansy is 
not a regular attendant, and we have too much 
spare room.” 

“ I shall be very glad to sit close in my corner 
57 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


if tliat will insure her presence ? ” replied 
Frances, smiling at the lovely little child who 
had instantly won her heart, for there was 
nothing self-conscious about Pansy, and her re- 
plies to Dr. Hazelton had been so perfectly 
natural. 

Pansy slipped within the pew again, and, 
going close up to Frances, took hold of her hand 
in the most confiding manner imaginable as she 
said : “ Marmee does n’t approve of church for 
little people, because she thinks that they can’t 
sit still so long without being uncomfortable and 
restless. And that makes other people uncom- 
fortable, too. But I go to Sunday-school, and if 
you like you may come there, and maybe Dr. 
Hazelton will let you teach our class, for Miss 
Jewett is going to Europe, and after this week 
wesha’n’t have any teacher. Will you? I ’d 
love to have you.” 

Frances slipped down upon the pew seat again, 
in order to bring her face nearer upon a level 
with the bonny one looking up at her, and, still 
58 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE 


holding the child’s hand, said, as she smiled at 
her : 

“ I shall be delighted to do so if Dr. Hazelton 
will let me ; but you do not know me a bit, so 
how do you know whether you will like me or 
not?” 

Many children would have been embarrassed 
by such a point-blank question, but the little 
maid to whom Frances was speaking was pure 
gold, and did not know what self-consciousness 
meant. Brought up to be entirely truthful, and 
to believe that all the world would love her if she 
loved it, she never feared to say exactly what 
she thought, and her unerring instinct usually 
proved a safe guide. So now, taking what 
Frances said in all seriousness, she looked steadily 
into the lovely eyes for a moment, and then 
answered : “ I ’ve been looking at you while Dr. 
Hazelton was preaching, and your eyes look as 
though you loved children, ’cause they got big 
and soft-looking when he said ‘ unless ye be- 
59 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


come as a little child/ so I am sure that I shall 
love you.” 

“ May I come, Dr. Hazelton ? ” asked Frances, 
turning to him, with a slight mist dimming her 
eyes, for her heart was longing for the little 
sister at home, and this child’s words touched a 
tender chord. 

“ Scott tells us that ‘ children know, instinctive 
taught, the friend and foe/ Miss Fern, so we 
welcome you most heartily upon Pansy’s intui- 
tions,” and, turning to Mrs. Eames, he remarked, 
seriously : “ It is a pity that we poor mortals 
cannot leave more to the Lord’s management 
than we do, is n’t it ? But, somehow, we seem to 
have an idea that the universe could not exist 
without us.” Then, smiling a gravely quizzical 
smile, he bade them good-morning, and turned 
to speak to a gentleman who was waiting in the 
aisle. 

Pansy returned to her father, and Mrs. Eames, 
turning to Frances, asked : “ Where are you 
staying, Miss Fern ? May I have the pleasure 
60 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE 


of calling upon you ? Pansy has placed us 
upon the footing of friends without the prelim- 
inary ceremony of acquaintanceship.” Frances 
was quick to note the slightly amused expression 
that flashed across Mrs. Earnes’ face when she 
mentioned Mrs. Beldon’s home as her address 
for the present. 

“ That lies our way, so we will act as your 
escorts home, if you do not object,” and during 
the several blocks from the church to her home 
Frances experienced the pleasantest moments she 
had known since coming to Kenwood. Mrs. 
Earnes did not say that she was acquainted with 
Mrs. Beldon, nor intimate in any way that during 
the first few weeks of their stay in Kenwood 
they had been forced to board with that lady 
while their own house was being completed. 
Neither did she enlighten Frances regarding 
some of her own experiences while beneath that 
roof. 

In Mrs. Beldon’s house was a bay-window, 
and in it always stood Mrs. Beldon’s favorite 
61 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


chair. From this point of vantage — for the 
house stood upon a corner — she could take note 
of all that passed. She was in the habit of sitting 
there for hours at a time, sustaining a running 
comment upon every visible happening or person, 
no matter how trivial the one or unknown to her 
the other. To the town she was a sort of stand- 
ing joke, for, having no business of her own to 
occupy her shallow brain, she took the liveliest 
interest in the affairs of others, and could not 
rest till she had learned every possible particular. 

Having returned from her own church, which 
was near at hand, before the congregation of 
Christ’s Church passed by her house, she 
hastened to her window in order to miss no detail 
of toilet, expression of countenance or other 
interesting feature of the passers-by. Her bonnet 
and coat had been hastily removed and laid upon 
the couch — it would have been a rash waste of 
time to have taken them upstairs — and by the 
time Frances and her newly-formed friend came 
by Mrs. Beldon was under full headway. 

62 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE 


Bessie, although quite as desirous of knowing 
what was happening in the outer world, sat some- 
what back in the room, feeling absolutely certain 
that nothing would escape her mother’s falcon 
eye. 

“ Well, upon my word, Bessie, if there is n’t 
Mrs. Yates in that same foulard silk that she has 
worn these two years ! She has had it all made 
over with plain black China-silk. Seems to me 
if I were going to spend so much on an old 
gown, I ’d spend a little more and get a new one 
outright. Her friends must be worn out looking 
at — . Why, Bessie, here comes Fred Hanscomb 
and his bride ! Do look. Pooh ! I thought 
they said that she was such a ravin’ beauty. 
Bather a washed-out blonde, I should call her. 
But, Bessie, her gown is perfectly swell! Take 
a good look at it, for you are so clever that you 
could make yours just like it. Umph ! lie looks 
decidedly bored. Serves him right, too. He 
never in this world married her for anything but 
her money. She has an income of fifteen tlious- 
63 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


and a year, they say. Dear me, what fools 
some men are ! He might have had the hand- 
somest girl in this town if he had only had the 
sense to pay proper attention to her mother. 
But those boys were never brought up to have 
proper respect for their elders. Bessie, Bessie ! 
Here .comes that Fern girl with those Eameses. 
Well, I do declare ! Where has she come across 
them f I hope that they will have better sense 
than to call upon her here, if she has ever 
known them before. I never could find out who 
they were or anything about them except what 
they chose to tell themselves. And that never 
amounts to much. I perfectly detest that little 
woman, for no matter what I said she always 
had that nasty little amused smile when she 
answered. Well, they Ve gone on, and here 
comes Miss Fern.” 

Frances was obliged to pass by “ the village 
watch-tower,” as the neighbors had dubbed Mrs. 
Beldon’s window, and was greeted with : 

“ Oh, Miss Fern, I see that you have been 
64 


“LITTLE SUNSHINE” 


fortunate enough to make an acquaintance upon 
your way home from church. ‘ Strangers in a 
strange land,’ I presume. Hee-hee ! But you 
must meet some of my friends. Some of the 
old families whom everybody knows . New- 
comers are rarely desirable friends, for one cannot 
tell whom one is meeting.” 

“ That is really too bad, Mrs. Beldon, for I 
am forced to class myself among them, you know, 
and so I should never dare intrude myself upon 
the old families,” replied Frances, with much 
the same smile that had been like a red rag to a 
bull when Mrs. Eames had favored Mrs. Beldon 
with it. When too late Mrs. Beldon realized 
what she had said, and she hastened to add : “ 1 
shall introduce you to them, Miss Fern,” as 
though nothing further could possibly be needed. 

“I fear that I shall have very little time to 
indulge in social life, thank you, Mrs. Beldon, ’’ 
replied Frances, and without another word 
passed upstairs to her own room, where she 
drew some very sharp contrasts between the 
65 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


woman below stairs and the one from whom she 
had just parted. 

“ And nothing but a schoolma’am in public 
school ! ” brindled her hostess, when she heard 
Frances’ door close. 


66 


CHAPTER V 


NEW VENTURES 

D URING the following week Mrs. Eames 
called upon Frances, taking Pansy with 
her, and then she learned that Mr. and 
Mrs. Eames had spent their first two months in 
Kenwood beneath Mrs. Beldon’s hospitable roof. 
To Frances this explained many remarks that 
Mrs. Beldon had let drop regarding her new 
friends. The call had been followed by an in- 
vitation to lunch with Mrs. Eames upon the fol- 
lowing Saturday, and a delightful meal it had 
proved, for Mrs. Eames’ home was a little gem 
of its kind, and strongly appealed to Frances’ 
love for the beautiful and her artistic tastes. 
During her girlhood Mrs. Eames had often 
visited in Kenwood, and upon the death of her 
67 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


aunt, shortly after her marriage to Mr. Eames, 
had inherited the old home. As the house was 
a large, old-fashioned one, she rented it furnished, 
and built a smaller modern one within the ex- 
tensive grounds for their own use. 

Mrs. Beldon had never known Mrs. Eames 
by her maiden name, for the Beldons had come 
to Kenwood after Mrs. Eames’ aunt had left it 
for Europe, taking her niece with her, and had 
remained there till her death, about eleven years 
before this date. Consequently, Mrs. Beldon, 
although pretty well informed of everyone’s his- 
tory, really did not know much about Mrs. 
Eames, for they moved in an entirely different 
circle and rarely met. 

The luncheon had been very simple, but served 
in the daintiest manner imaginable, with Mrs. 
Eames presiding at the head of the table, and 
little Pansy at the foot, where she served the 
salad as gracefully as any little old lady might 
have done, and looked to the welfare of their 
guest in a way which would have been highly 
68 


ft EW VENTURES 


amusing to Frances had there been the least 
spark of self-consciousness in the child’s de- 
meanor. But there was not, and evidently the 
little girl was only doing exactly what she was 
accustomed to doing with her mother every day 
of her life, and doing it all as a matter of course. 
She talked away as happily as a bird could pipe, 
but never interrupted her mother’s conversation. 
Frances was falling deeper and deeper in love 
with her every moment, and when, after luncheon 
was over, Pansy said to her mother: “ Marmee, 
may I take Miss Fern up to my playroom to 
show her my dolly-house?” her mother replied: 
“ If Miss Fern would like to go, dear.” Frances 
went up to the big playroom at the top of the 
house, and spent a wonderfully happy hour while 
the little maid entertained her. 

This visit led to many others, and to many 
delightful little trips to town with Mrs. Eames 
and Pansy, there to attend the matinee or some 
other place of amusement. Frances had grown 
to love the child dearly, and it was no wonder 

jr— Doughnuts and Diplomas. /- 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


that her heart leaped for joy when one morning 
at breakfast a note was handed to her. Think- 
ing that the messenger would wait for a reply, 
she begged permission to read the letter, her face 
growing so radiant as she read that Mrs. Beldon, 
whose curiosity was always at fever-heat, could 
not refrain from remarking: “If Miss Fern was 
frivolous enough to indulge in such a thing as 
a sweetheart, I should suspect that this note was 
from him.” 

“ How do you know that I have n’t one ? ” 
asked Frances, her eyes sparkling and her face 
aglow, for “sweetheart” was her pet name for 
Pansy, and the note was from Mrs. Eames. 
“ There is no answer, Addie,” she said to the 
maid, and then replaced the letter in its envel- 
ope and laid it upon the table beside her. This 
was what she had read : 

Cosy JJooJc, June 10, 1898. 

Dear Miss Fern : Can yon spare a few moments from 
your busy day and run up here this afternoon ? I would come 
to you, but, for reasons which you will understand, think that 
it will be wiser for us to discuss my plan where dwell none of 
70 


NEW VENTURES 


those tiresome “ little birds who tell.” We have decided to 
make some radical changes in our home life and venture out 
into the world for a few months this summer, and I would 
like to talk the matter over with you, for there is much to be 
attended to before we do so, and I feel that I must have some 
one to assist me and to help entertain Pansy. 

I shall not go into detail until I can talk with you, but if 
you feel that you would like to spend two months at the sea- 
shore with us this summer, please call here this afternoon to 
arrange matters, for we leave on July first. Pansy asks me 
to send her love to you, and say that she will entertain you 
every moment if you will only go with us. 

Very cordially yours, 

Eleanor Bradford Eames. 

Would she go with them ! How could she 
make that day pass quickly enough? Even 
those dreadful children who, ever since she had 
taken the position left vacant by her predecessor, 
had elected to prove that the path of pedagogy 
was not wholly strewn with roses (and whose 
mother when appealed to regarding her incor- 
rigibles had replied: “If people only would learn 
that my children were born to command , so much 
trouble would be avoided ! ”) were clothed for the 
time being in a rosy light, and proved a degree 
less exasperating than usual. 

71 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Hurrying home from school at three o’clock, 
Frances hastily changed her dress, and then set 
out for Mrs. Eames’ home. It was about a mile 
from Mrs. Beldon’s, but Frances sped along as 
though she had wings to her feet. Mrs. Eames’ 
house was about two hundred feet from the old 
house in which her aunt had lived, and the larger 
house stood a little further up the hill. 

The old house was very handsome, but, being 
of a bygone period and lacking many modern 
conveniences, Mrs. Eames found it rather diffi- 
cult to rent, and sometimes not unlike a white 
elephant upon her hands. The tenants who had 
occupied it until the first of May had gone 
abroad, and now that they themselves were about 
to leave Kenwood for some time Mrs. Eames 
had her hands full preparing for a long ab- 
sence. 

Frances rang the bell at Mrs. Eames’ little 
home, and the door was promptly answered by 
the neat maid, who informed her that Mrs. Eames 
was “ over yander in de great house wif Will- 
72 


NEW VENTURES 


yum, a-gittin’ tings packed away Tore slie go off 
to de seasho’, and would Miss Fern, please, 
ma’am, step right ober der.” 

Frances asked for Pansy, and was told that 
she had gone to pass the afternoon with a little 
neighbor. So, giving a friendly nod to the 
smiling Mary, she hurried across the beautiful 
lawns, and soon found herself upon the broad, 
hospitable piazza of the big house. The door 
stood open, and, thinking that Mrs. Fames must 
be busy, Frances entered without ringing, and, 
following the sound of a vigorous pushing and 
hauling which proceeded from the rear of the 
house, she quickly made her way there to find 
Mrs. Eames surrounded by a pile of open trunks. 
Across the conservatory adjoining this room — 
which from its size and furnishing Frances 
judged must be the dining-room — were stretched 
clothes-lines filled with every sort of garment 
one could conceive of, from the wraps of the style 
of ten years before to the startling striped hose 
worn in the seventies. Among them stood Mrs. 

73 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Eames, tlie very picture of despair. As Frances 
entered she looked up, burst out laughing and 
dropped upon the nearest trunk. 

“Did you ever in all your days see such a col- 
lection of rubbish ?” she demanded, as Frances 
joined in the infectious laugh and sat down upon 
another trunk. “You need not wonder that I 
sent for you, for I think that I shall have to 
spend the next six weeks right in this very room, 
and then I doubt if I shall have disposed of this 
conglomeration. What in this world ever pos- 
sessed Aunt Sara to keep all this stuff from year 
to year I shall never be able to understand. 
Why, there are things here which I wore when 
I was ten years old . Just look at those dreadful 
stockings! Are n’t they enough to make one’s 
hair stand upon end ? Picture to yourself what 
I must have looked like when arrayed in those 
State’s Prison stripes,” and she pointed to a dozen 
or more pairs of stockings which hung upon one 
of the lines. “I have just sent William down 
to old Aunt Hannah’s with a lot of things, and 
74 


NEW VENTURES 


I can’t do anything more until he comes back, so 
come out of this dusty place, and let us talk 
about something more enlivening than old clothes 
which have been packed away for the last twenty- 
five years when they ought to have been doing 
someone good,” and, springing up from her 
trunk, Mrs. Eames led the way through the 
conservatory and over the lawn to the woods 
beyond. 

“I came just as fast as I could scurry,” said 
Frances, when they had seated themselves upon 
a fallen tree at the edge of the woods, but still in 
sight of the house, “ for I ’m wild with curiosity 
to know your plan.” 

“ This ’s my plan,” said Mrs. Eames, clasping 
her hands in her lap and giving her head a 
positive little nod : “ We are going to Indian 
Point for the summer, to stay at the hotel for 
three months. That is, we are to have a cottage 
and take our meals at the hotel, and Mr. Eames 
will come every Saturday night, for it is too far 
for him to go and come daily. As I shall have 
75 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


no housekeeping cares, I shall not need the ser- 
vants, hut shall let them go south for the three 
months. They have been with us four years, 
and never had a vacation. So now comes their 
chance. Mr. Eames does not like the idea of my 
being alone with Pansy all the week, so insists 
that I take someone with me to keep me out of 
mischief during his absence, and to see that Pansy 
does not try to swim quite across the Sound. 
Now, I Ve thought and thought, till I have 
at last decided that you will be the only one 
who will not bore me to extinction, and whom I 
can scold whenever I feel ill-tempered. Will 
you try it ? ” and Mrs. Eames slipped her hand 
over that of Frances’ in a manner so exactly 
like Pansy’s that Frances no longer wondered 
where the little girl got the taking little trick. 

“I will try it on just one condition, and that 
is that you let me do everything that is to be 
done for either you or Pansy ; otherwise I shall 
not have earned my keep,” said Frances, posi- 
tively. 


76 


NEW VENTURES 


“ You will have your hands full/’ cried Mrs. 
Eames, “ for I am going to do great things in the 
way of ‘res’in’ up/ as Mary puts it.” 

Then the conversation took a more serious 
tone, and Frances felt that the salary offered 
for the duties she was to perform was a very 
liberal one indeed. Nearly an hour had slipped 
away before they realized it, when, chanc- 
ing to look up, Mrs. Eames caught sight of a 
rough-looking man emerging from the woods 
a little further beyond. He evidently did not 
see them, but. made his way cautiously toward 
the big house. Knowing that he could have no 
business there, she sprang to her feet, and, laying 
her hand upon Frances’ arm, cried : “ Do you 
see that man ? He is going toward the house, 
and all those clothes are hanging on the lines !” 

“ Don’t say a word,” answered Frances, 
quickly, “ and I ’ll slip down the other side of 
the hill and get there first. You come this 
way behind him, and between us we will prevent 
any mischief.” 


77 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Quick ! Fly ! ” cried Mrs. Eames, and a 
second later Frances was speeding over the 
ground like Atalanta. 


78 


CHAPTER VI 

ATALANTA COMES TO GEIEF 

B ENT upon serving her friend if she died 
in the attempt, Frances sped over the 
ground regardless of wind or limb, and 
arrived at the rear of the house just as the sus- 
picious-looking character, whom she was so hotly- 
pursuing, disappeared around the corner. From 
her point of observation he seemed to have gone 
straight into the open door. Mrs. Eames had 
come more slowly, but more directly, so could 
see that the man had passed quickly to the op- 
posite side of the house. Seeing that they were 
safe from molestation, she did her best to check 
her flying friend, but Frances was lost to all 
things but overtaking the tramp, and Mrs. Eames 
was forced to give it up, and leave Frances to 
79 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


make lier own discoveries. On rushed the girl, 
pell-mell through the open conservatory window, 
dodging beneath the clothes-lines with their 
heterogeneous decorations, and blissfully uncon- 
scious that one of the gorgeously-striped stock- 
ings had caught upon the jet aigrette which 
adorned her hat, and were there draped in the 
most artistic and airy manner imaginable. Had 
she for one moment doubted that the tramp had 
entered by the back door, her doubts would have 
been speedily dispelled upon hearing a man’s 
footsteps in the passageway leading from the 
front hall to the conservatory. 

Bent upon driving the intruder from Mrs. 
Earnes’ house or perishing, she tore through the 
dark passageway, calling out in the most per- 
emptory voice : “ What are you doing in this 

house? Leave it this instant! How dare — ” 
Crash ! Down tumbled Frances, and showered 
upon her from out the darkness came band- 
boxes and ancient bonnets galore. 

It seemed to her that they would never stop 
80 


ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


falling, and that she would never in the world 
be able to disentangle herself from the snarl of 
ribbons, feathers and flowers by which she was 
surrounded, while from out of the gloom shouted 
a voice, which demanded in indignant accents : 

“ What in the name of all that’s reasonable 
have I run up against ? ” 

At that instant Mrs. Eames flung open the 
backdoor to let a flood of sunshine pour in upon 
the startling spectacle of Frances sitting upon 
the floor surrounded by millinery, her own hat 
presenting an altogether rowdy appearance, 
while before her stood a young man minus his 
coat, and holding alf^that he had managed to 
save of the burden he had been carrying when 
set upon by the errant young woman, who had 
rushed to the defence of her friend’s property. 
In his hands he held an uncovered liat-box, and 
from it waved like a triumphant plume, defying 
defeat, a long white ostrich feather, while the 
hat to which it was attached tilted airily half in 
and half out of the box. Two more startled 
81 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


mortals it would have been difficult to bring face 
to face; and after one wild but comprehensive 
glance Mrs. Eames dropped upon one of the 
numberless trunks and screamed with laughter. 
Meanwhile the victim of Frances’ onslaught gal- 
lantly came to his foes rescue, and assisted her 
to a more dignified position, at the same time 
mildly demanding : 

“ May I have the pleasure of learning whom 
it is that my sister-in-law has chosen to defend 
her property so gallantly ? ” 

“ Father an over-zealous defender, I am 
afraid,” replied Frances, as she too began to 
laugh, and was heartily joined by the young 
man. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Eames had recovered her 
breath, and now broke in : 

“ Newton has always hated ceremony and con- 
ventionalities, and declared that if he had to 
know girls he wished that he might become ac- 
quainted with them in some original manner, 
rather than through the regular stereotyped in- 

82 


ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


troductions he so abominates, where everyone 
makes exactly the same replies to the same old 
worn-out remarks. I think he has his wish this 
time, with a vengeance ! There is no lack of 
originality in this meeting, and I ’ll put the fin- 
ishing stroke by saying in just plain, every-day 
language that this young man is my brother-in- 
law, Newton Ward well Eames, and this young 
woman is Frances Farwell Fern. Now, bear in 
mind that you are old friends and conduct your- 
selves accordingly. But I should like to know 
when you arrived upon the scene, and how you 
happened to be so burdened when Frances came 
upon you ? ” 

“ I arrived upon the three p. m. train,” the 
young man replied, oratorically, “ and meeting 
William on his way down town learned from 
him that you were delving up here and doing 
your best to turn the house inside out — that 
he had been helping you in your laudable at- 
tempt, and had left you surrounded by trunks 
and boxes innumerable, which you wished placed 
83 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


in the conservatory preparatory to launching 
upon this unsuspecting town the garments and 
fashions of ancient days. Thinking I might 
possibly be of some use, I hied me up here and 
found the house deserted. Conscience hinted 
that it would be far more laudable to ‘sail in’ 
and do a lot of things without waiting to be 
asked, so in I sailed, and was just groping my 
way through that confoundedly dark passage, 
burdened with bonnets of a bygone period, when 
this young woman rushed upon me and knocked 
all the style out of them.” 

“ Well, for mercy’s sake, let ’s try to gather 
up the evidence of our encounter,” said Frances, 
and at once began replacing the hats in their 
boxes, while Newton and Mrs. Eames placed 
them where they could be easily reached when 
needed. As Frances was bending over to gather 
up some flowers, Newton reached across, and, 
taking hold of the stocking still entangled 
in her headgear, asked, innocently : “ Have n’t 
84 



Doughnuts and Diplomas 3. _ ~ 

“‘WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT’S REASONABLE HAVE I RUN 

UP AGAINST ? ’ ” 






Seep 81. 












































. 


























































‘ 


















ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


you made a slight mistake, Miss Fern, in the use 
of these articles of toilet ?” 

Frances put her hand to her hat and dis- 
covered its novel decoration. 

“ In days of knight-errantry gloves were worn 
as favors, so why should I not have hastily 
twined a stocking upon my helmet when going 
forth to defend feminine apparel, I ’d like to 
know?” she demanded. 

“ Great scheme ! But, look here, Nell, are 
you going to spend all the afternoon in this snuff- 
box? I ’m half-starved, and Miss Fern looks a 
bit gone after that set-to. Come over to the house 
and feed us ; that ’s a good girl,” and, slipping 
his arm through his sister’s, he added : “ Has 
she ever fed you upon some of her doughnuts, 
Miss Fern ? No ? Then don’t lose another 
moment in urging her to produce some. They ’re 
all right. Oh, hold on ; where ’s my coat ? Wait 
a minute ; I ’ve left it upstairs,” and he sprung 
away up the stairs two steps at a time. 

Ten minutes later they were resting in Mrs. 

6 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. n 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Eame’ cosy “den” partaking of the “all right” 
doughnuts, and sipping lemonade which the 
thoughtful Mary had made during their absence, 
stating that she “ Jist felt it in her boneses dat 
Massa Newton was a-gwine ter come back nigh 
about perishin’ fer some ’en ter cool hese’f off 
wid.” 

“ How delicious they are ! ” cried Frances, as 
she tried their flaky lightness. “I never tasted 
any like these ; they are so puffy and dainty. 
Some day you must give me the recipe.” 

“ I promised Aunt Sara never to betray her 
secret,” laughed Mrs. Eames, “ but I can hardly 
believe that she is very deeply interested in the 
method of preparing doughnuts nowadays, so 
some day I ’ll show you how I make them. 
Really, though, I have never given the recipe 
to any one, although many have begged for it. 
But visions of Aunt Sara’s dismay at having her 
culinary secrets betrayed have always made me 
hesitate to admit others to the mystery. I have 
been asked time and again to make them for the 
86 


ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


Exchange, or for special orders, but others who 
work for the Exchange really need the returns 
it makes them, while I do not, and I should 
feel that I was depriving them of their oppor- 
tunities.” 

Then the object of her call that afternoon was 
further discussed, and before they were aware 
of it the afternoon had slipped away, and Mr. 
Eames came home from town. Frances was 
urged to remain to dine with them, and, Pansy 
having returned meanwhile, she did not need 
much urging. 

It was nearly ten o’clock when she bade them 
good-night, and, with Newton for escort, started 
for her detested abiding-place, happy in the 
thought that she need dwell beneath that roof 
but a short time longer. As though the spirit 
of mischief was invisibly pursuing them, and 
had not yet ended its pranks for that day, 
whom should they come upon shortly before 
reaching home but Mrs. Beldon and Bessie. 

Newton saw them first, and, with a smothered: 
87 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ By George !” decreased liis pace. Frances 
glanced quickly in the direction in which he was 
looking, and discovered Mrs. Beldon’s colossal 
figure lumbering through the gloom upon the 
other side of the street, while the devoted Bessie 
tripped airily along beside her, directing, ex- 
torting or fretting, as was her wont upon 
the occasions when she escorted her mother 
abroad. 

Now, Newton was only a few years Frances’ 
senior, and very much a boy at heart, little given 
to pondering his words, and hating affectation 
most cordially. Although six years his senior, 
Bessie had made life a burden to him ever since 
he had come to Kenwood to spend his vacations 
in his brother’s home, and he avoided her as 
he would have avoided the plague. 

Frances could not repress a smile at the ex- 
pressive exclamation, for she and Newton were 
enough alike in disposition to sympathize 
strongly upon the Beldon question, and at his 
expressive “By George!” she laughed softly. 

88 


ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


Then the spirit of mischief took possession of 
her and she asked: 

“ Sha’n’t we make haste to overtake them ? 
They look lonely.” 

It was too dark for her to see Newton’s face, 
but the tone in which he demanded: “And have 
old Lady Beldon cackle over me and call me 
her ‘ Dear Newtie ! ’ Not if I know myself, and 
I think I do!” 

Had she been sure of destruction following 
the act, Frances could not have repressed a 
laugh, and it came near proving their undoing, 
for Mrs. Beldon was blessed with keen hearing 
when she was not supposed to hear, and a voice 
which could carry clear and far. Wheeling 
about with surprising nimbleness for one of her 
proportions, she glanced quickly in the direction 
of the laugh, but, quick as had been her motion, 
Newton’s had been even quicker, and, bobbing 
behind a convenient shrub, he jerked Frances 
along, whispering, apologetically : “ Beg pardon 
for hustling you, but there was no time for ex- 
89 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


planations.” Just tlien the silent night air bore 
to them the words : “ Bessie ! did you hear that 
laugh ? It sounded exactly like that Fern 
girl’s,” and the tone in which “that Fern girl’s” 
was spoken would promptly have banished any 
delusion which Frances might have fostered re- 
garding Mrs. Beldon’s affection for her, notwith- 
standing her many and oft-repeated protests that 
“she loved her dearly — dearly! She was j-u-s-t 
like her own daughter !” 

After time had been given their fellow-way- 
farers to reach their own door, which lay but a 
block or so farther on, the two conspirators 
emerged from their hiding-place and a moment 
later bade each other good-night at Mrs. Beldon’s 
gate, Newton stoutly refusing to step foot upon 
the piazza lest, as he put it, “ The dragon spring 
upon me, and drag me within her den, willy- 
nilly.” 

If Frances had hoped to slip up to her room 
without being called upon to render an account 
for the mysterious laugh, she was disappointed, 

90 


ATALANTA COMES TO GRIEF 


for Mrs. Beldon was mounting guard in “the 
village watch-tower,” and hailed her boarder the 
moment she closed the front door. But the 
Frances of this day, after two months out in the 
wide world “ paddling her own canoe,” was 
somewhat different from the Frances who had 
come to Kenwood with faith in all mankind and 
womankind, and was not so given to believing 
everything she heard, or doing so exactly as 
everyone asked her to do. So when she was 
greeted with : 

“ Oh, here is d-e-a-r Miss F-e-r-n ! We 
feared you were lost, and I was just saying to 
Bessie that we ought to walk down toward Mrs. 
Earnes’ home to meet you, as it was not safe for 
you to be out alone at this time of the night ; ” 
and Mrs. Beldon could scarcely conceal her 
eagerness to discover whether her random shots 
had hit the mark. 

But it is to be hoped that her night’s rest did 
not depend upon the knowledge she sought, for, 
9 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


fighting fire with fire, Frances smiled sweetly as 
she replied : 

“ It is fortunate you and Miss Beldon did not 
take that long walk in vain. I should have 
been so sorry to have had you do so. Thanks, 
however, for thinking of my welfare, but the 
friend whom I was visiting took care to see that 
I should come to no harm. Good-night, Mrs. 
Beldon : Good-night, Miss Seldom’’ 

92 


CHAPTER VII 
AT INDIAN POINT 

M RS. EAMES, Frances, and Pansy had 
been established in the pleasant cottage 
at Indian Point nearly three weeks, 
and the entire rest and delicious air had worked 
wonders in all three. Mr. Eames came each 
Saturday evening, and remained with them over 
Sunday, and during his visits Pansy enjoyed 
herself as only a perfectly healthy, happy child 
can. Frances grew to love her almost as dearly 
as she loved her own little sister, and the child 
returned her affection. Later, Newton expected 
to join them, but he was now, with some of his 
university chums, canoeing and fishing on the 
St. Lawrence. Several of Mrs. Eames’ friends 
were at Indian Point, and there was no lack of 


93 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


pleasant times, although real summer gayety, 
with its incessant whirl of social happenings, 
hops and whatnot, was quite unknown in In- 
dian Point, for people came there to rest, to en- 
joy the water, and to have a quiet time. 

The cottage life was the chief attraction of the 
place, for everyone was so independent in that 
free and easy existence, and once within the 
walls of their own cottage each family could do 
pretty much as they chose. 

It was a new and altogether delightful ex- 
perience for Frances, who had never before been 
to the seaside ; nor had she even suspected its 
manifold delights. In a very short time she and 
Pansy had learned both to row and to swim, 
and almost constantly they lived either upon the 
water or in it, while Mrs. Eames sunned herself 
upon the rocks near by, or luxuriated in her 
hammock, learning, as she expressed it, “ to do 
nothing gracefully/' 

The 28tli of July would be Frances’ birth- 
day, and, as the day drew nearer and nearer, 
94 


AT INDIAN POINT 


she found herself filled with a longing for the 
dear home faces which she had not seen in so 
many, many long weeks. But never by word or 
sign did she let any one suspect that she was a 
wee bit homesick even amidst all her pleasant 
surroundings, but continued to do all within her 
power to repay Mrs. Eames and Pansy for their 
kindness to her. 

Frances never suspected that both Mrs. Eames 
and Pansy were laying plans for her happiness, 
or that they had the least suspicion of an ap- 
proaching birthday till the day itself arrived. 
She was awakened early in the morning by 
Pansy kissing her forehead and calling out in 
her sweet little voice : “ Wake up, Francie ! 
Many happy returns of your birthday! Come 
downstairs quick, for there ’s lots and lots of 
surprises waiting ! ” 

Frances caught the bonny child in her arms 
and hugged her with a good will, then jumped 
out of bed and began making her toilet fast 
enough to please even the eager Pansy. Before 
95 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


slie had finished, Mrs. Eames called over the 
partition to wish her happy returns of the day, 
for the cottage was built upon extremely primi- 
tive plans, and none of the partitions between 
the rooms ran to the pointed roof far above. 
Downstairs things were “ a little more civilized/’ 
Mrs. Eames said, but upstairs one might shy a 
shoe over the partition at any member of the 
family who was disposed to indulge in too many 
extra winks in the morning. 

When Frances went downstairs, with Pansy 
still arrayed in her little toga, following close at 
her heels, she found a pile of gifts arranged 
upon the centre-table in the sitting-room. There 
was a long birthday letter from her mother with 
a pair of gloves enclosed, something from each 
of the boys, and a neatly made mull scarf which 
poor little Edith had spent hours in making. 
From Mrs. Eames came a handsome volume of 
“ Shakespeare’s Heroines,” and from Pansy a 
quaint little Indian basket which she had bought 

96 


AT INDIAN POINT 


with her own modest allowance of twenty-five 
cents a week. 

Frances was deeply touched by the thought- 
fulness which prompted this little demonstra- 
tion, and called up to Mrs. Fames that she 
should like to know how she was ever to repay 
her. “ Send that child of mine up to dress her- 
self before she catches cold ! ” was the prompt 
answer, and up they scrambled, and were soon 
in a gale of merriment over the toilet, for a laugh 
never lay far from Pansy’s lips. Soon after 
breakfast Mrs. Eames ordered a surrey, and 
they all drove to the beautiful Twin Lakes, which 
lay like two shining jewels about ten miles back 
in the hills. 

They did not return till the dinner hour. 
After supper a number of the young people 
from the adjoining cottages appeared upon the 
scene, and the event of the day took place. 
This was the making of fudge and cream walnuts, 
and all the girls worked with a will till the con- 
fections were made and set upon the back porch 
97 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to harden. Then games were played, charades 
were acted and all sorts of pranks were in 
order. 

“ Let *s go out and sit in the hammocks,” 
said Howard Robinson. “ It ’s lots cooler out 
there, and we ’ll leave the girls to clean up.” 

“ Well, I guess you won’t do anything of the 
sort,” cried Fanny Lefferts, a bright little body 
who had worked like a beaver, having stirred 
the fudge till her cheeks burned. Flying across 
the room, she locked the doors and slipped the 
keys in her shirt-waist.” 

“ Ho ! Who cares for your doors ? There ’s 
more than one exit to this domicile, as I happen 
to know! Ta ! ta !” shouted tall Bob Pritchard, 
as he disappeared up the stairs, and a moment 
later was heard scrambling across the piazza 
roof to swing himself off the low end. 

The other boys followed, and the girls cried 
out after them : 

“ Well, go ahead ; we don’t care. But we won’t 
give you a scrap of the candy ! Hurry outside, 

98 


AT INDIAN POINT 


Helen, and take it in, and then we ’ll lock them 
all out and have a feast right before their eyes.” 

Helen flew for the back porch, and Frances 
close upon her heels, but, lo, and behold ! the 
result of their labors had disappeared com- 
pletely. 

“ They simply could n’t have run around here 
so quickly as that!” cried Frances, “for Howard 
had scarcely reached the ground, much less the 
others, when Helen started for the back door. 
Now, where in this world has it gone?” 

“ Hats ! ” called a voice from almost beneath 
their feet. “ Water rats ! They came in the 
canoe.” 

“ Who is it ? ” whispered the girls. 

But Pansy cried : “ That ’s Uncle Newton’s 
voice, and I just believe he has come in time to 
steal all our candy!” and, rushing past the 
girls, she flew toward the little cellar built 
beneath the kitchen, and peered into its dusky 
depths. “ He ’s down there ! ” she screamed. ‘T 

see his white trowsers ! ” 

L.cf C. 


99 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


A second later the luckless Newton was set 
upon by seven or eight girls, who rescued their 
candy in a more or less damaged condition, and 
carried it back to the house in triumph, where 
they spread it in tempting array upon the table 
and leisurely ate it before the envious eyes of 
the boys who peered in at the securedly bolted 
windows and doors and made threats of dire 
vengeance. Meanwhile the girls taunted them 
with : “ Why did n’t you stay in and help us 

clean up ? Then you would have been entitled 
to your share. But you did n’t do a single 
thing to help make it, or clean up, and now you 
want to eat it.” 

“ Let ’s save some for them, anyway, and put 
it out in the cupboard for Newton to find to- 
morrow,” said Frances, for she could not bear to 
see the boys deprived of all their feast. 

“ Suppose you put it in the drawer of the 
guest-chamber bureau? Newton will be sure 
to find it there and go halves with the other 
victims,” suggested Mrs. Fames. 


IOO 


AT INDIAN POINT 


“ I say, Nell,” called a doleful voice through 
the window, “ I did n’t think you ’d go back on 
me. Make those girls give us fellows some of 
that candy, will you ? ” 

“ I can’t make them ; it is n’t my candy. It 
belongs to Frances,” Mrs. Eames answered. 

“Just you wait and see, Uncle Newton!” 
called Pansy, for she could not bear to have her 
favorite left out of the fun, even though he had 
proved himself unworthy. 

“ All right, Honey-bun, I count on you ; and 
mind you don’t let us fellows get left.” 

“ I won’t. Hunt all around your room to- 
night, and see what you ’ll find.” 

“ Which is my room, chickabiddy ? ” 

“ The guest room, of course.” 

“ The one right up in this corner ? ” asked 
Newton, pointing to the one just over where he 
stood ; but Pansy could not see out upon the dark 
piazza as plainly as he could see into the elec- 
tric-lighted room, and, thinking that he had 

7 — Doughnuts and Diplom is. 


IOI 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


pointed to the room where he would be domiciled 
for the night, she answered, “ Yes.” 

“ All right, Honey-bun ; I ’ll remember. 
Good-night, girls. We fellows are going to 
have a dip to cool us off. Don’t you wish you 
could, after being shut up there with the ther- 
mometer at ninety, all for the sake of saving 
your old fudge and walnuts? Bye-bye,” and 
the tramping of feet told that their victims had 
taken their departure. 

“ For mercy sake, open the doors and win- 
dows quickly,” cried Mrs. Fames ; I am on the 
point of suffocation ! ” 

The girls flew to let in the refreshing night- 
air, and the sound of boys’ voices as they shouted 
out some of their college-songs. Pansy arranged 
a big plateful of the candy and carried it up to 
place carefully in the drawer, little suspecting 
how her good intentions would be frustrated by 
her mischievous uncle himself. 


102 


CHAPTER VIII 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 

E LEVEN o’clock had been hooted out by 
the pugnacious little cuckoo in the clock 
above the sitting-room couch, and Pansy 
was fast asleep in Frances’ bed. Accommoda- 
tions at the cottage were somewhat limited, and 
Newton, having arrived upon the scene unex- 
pectedly, some of the girls who had been invited 
to remain over night were obliged to sleep three 
in a room, utilizing couches or anything that 
came handy as a “ roosting-place.” Three 
others were near neighbors, and, after getting 
things in order, they skipped across the lawns 
dividing their cottages, and peace settled upon 
the world. There was still no sign of the boys, 
and Mrs. Eames concluded that, having taken 

103 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


tlieir moonlight swim, they were now luxuri- 
ating upon the warm sand, loath to leave a spot so 
alluring for dreams in a somewhat close cottage, 
although it was close only by contrast with the 
deliciously cool night air of the beach. Before 
retiring she looked from her window to see the 
figures stretched at length upon the near-by 
shore, and an occasional merry laugh told her 
that hearts were gay. So, calling out to the 
girls that the boys had no doubt decided to play 
mermen, she turned off the electric light and was 
soon in the land of dreams. 

It was not long before the other girls followed 
her upon her journey ; but Frances’ thoughts 
kept her wide awake some time longer. Her 
mind wandered back to that day in early April 
when she had started from Mitonville to begin 
life in earnest, and she recalled 'her arrival in 
Kenwood and the work she had been doing 
there. Her efforts had not yielded any very lavish 
returns, to be sure, but she had made a begin- 
ning, and a position was already assured for the 
104 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


coming fall — a very much better one than she 
had held in the spring, for she was to be prin- 
cipal of the primary department. She was 
eminently suited to fill the new place, as, while 
she loved little children and won their love in 
return, she was at the same time a wise, but very 
gentle disciplinarian. 

The president of the Board of Education in 
Kenwood was a keenly discerning woman, and 
from the beginning had watched Frances’ pro- 
gress with great interest. She had been drawn 
toward the girl by her frank, modest bearing, 
and felt that just such a gentle, though very 
firm character, was the one to place in charge of 
young children. For some time the place had 
been held by an exceedingly clever woman, but 
one much given to theories upon which she was 
prone to experiment at the childrens’ expense, 
so that they never quite knew what to expect. 

This woman, Mrs. Force, had been offered a 
position in New York and had resigned the one 
she held in Kenwood, which left Mrs. Badcliff 
io 5 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


free to fill the vacancy by choosing from the 
other teachers, and she was not slow to choose 
Frances. This had been a genuine surprise to 
the girl herself, but the promotion caused her 
heart to beat high with hope, for now her cher- 
ished plan, the plan for which she was working, 
dreaming and saving every penny she earned, 
could be realized. Already the letter to her 
mother, bidding her get Morton and Edith ready 
to come to Kenwood in the autumn, had been 
sent upon its way, and, as usual, had been met 
with doubt and discouragement. Mrs. Fern 
protested against the children’s leaving home 
just as she had protested against Frances’ doing 
so; but Frances was determined that Edith and 
Morton should share some of the advantages 
which were now hers, and that they should at- 
tend a school which offered greater and more 
modern facilities for learning than the little 
“ back number ” which Mitonville boasted. 
Moreover, Frances felt that they could not but 
absorb a certain amount of culture in Kenwood, 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


and near by was tlie great city, with its museums, 
art galleries, and hundreds of advantages to be 
had for the looking. Every bit of her salary 
which she was receiving from Mrs. Eames was 
carefully put aside for this object, for her 
expenses were almost nothing, and, although the 
sum paid to her by Mrs. Eames was not a large 
one in itself, she had no living expenses to con- 
sider, and consequently it seemed a large one to 
Frances. So it was no wonder that on this, the 
threshold of her nineteenth year, she should be 
kept awake by the loving plans, in which self 
never for one instant figured, except as her 
own ambition, perseverance and advancement 
would enable her to help those dear to her. 

The little bird in the clock downstairs had 
long since announced to those who were awake 
to hear him that midnight had passed and all 
was well; and Frances was just wandering off 
into a dream where her mother was striving to 
cool her misdirected ardor for her brother and 
sister by throwing a pail of cold water over her, 
107 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


when she came to a very realizing sense of her 
dream by feeling a spray of cold water upon her 
face, while from the adjoining room one of the 
girls called out : 

“ Girls ! Girls ! Wake up, quick ! it ’s just 
pouring in torrents, and coming right in through 
the roof! ” 

It was too dark to see anything, but the sound 
of torrents of water pouring upon the piazza 
roof left no doubt that a real deluge was 
upon them. Mrs. Eames had wakened at 
the same instant, but her room was upon the 
opposite side of the cottage, and rushing to her 
window she looked out to see the heavens bright 
with stars, and the moon just sinking from sight 
below the distant hills. 

“ It is n’t raining a drop ! ” she cried, while 
from over the partition voices screamed : “ It 
is f it is! it’s just pouring, in torrents, and 
coming straight into Newton’s room, and the 
spray from it is dashing right over the par- 
tition ! Frances’ hair is all wet, and we caught 
108 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


some of it, too. Oh, do come quick and turn 
on the light; for we can’t find the button to 
save us ! ” and shrieks proceeded from all 
quarters. Scrabbling on her kimono, Mrs. 
Eames rushed into the girls’ room, and the next 
instant a flood of light revealed four of them 
huddled in one corner, while in Frances’ room 
Pansy was sitting up in bed with a fine spray of 
water playing upon her rosy little face, as Frances 
struggled in vain to close a window from which 
not one drop of rain was coming. 

“ It is all coming from Newton’s room,” 
screamed Mrs. Eames, rushing to the guest room, 
the door of which stood wide open and the bed 
unoccupied. Through the open window fell a 
cascade which left everything in range dripping. 
It landed squarely upon the bed, splashed from 
that to the bureau and sent its spray clear over 
the seven-foot partition dividing the rooms. One 
glance told her the story, and, rushing to the 
window, she slammed it down before a half dozen 
figures which were howling and dancing upon 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the lawn below, and flourishing their hose-pipe 
like demons who fought with water instead of 
fire. 

It was well for the occupants of the cottage that 
Newton had mistaken Pansy’s directions regard- 
ing the room he was to occupy that night, or 
they would not have had a dry garment to their 
names. Happily, the cottage itself was simply 
furnished, and contained absolutely nothing that 
pure water could damage very much ; for matting 
dries quickly, bamboo furniture can stand a deal 
of rough handling, and mattresses and bedding 
will dry in time if exposed long enough to hot 
sunshine. 

But Newton had certainly “ done himself 
proud ” this time, for straight into the middle of 
his own bed had he directed that too effective 
hose-pipe. The cascade which poured from the 
bureau promptly filled the drawers, set afloat the 
fudge and cream walnuts which Pansy had 
lovingly closed there, and, being no respecter of 
place or things, had deposited a sweet and deeply- 


IIO 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


colored sticky syrup upon all of his clean shirts 
which, pending his arrival from his fishing-trip, 
Mrs. Eames had had carefully laundered and 
laid there in readiness for him. 

When this sight was discovered the girls 
could no longer suppress their triumph, so, hastily 
scrambling into their kimonos, they shouted 
from a window beyond the range of the hose- 
pipe. 

“ You have played with a boomerang instead 
of a hose ! ” 

“ You have drowned your own bed ! ” 

“ Come in, and see what a mess you have made 
of all your clean shirts ! ” 

“ How will you go to the dance at the hotel 
to-morrow night ? ” 

“ You have soaked all the candy Pansy saved 
for you ! ” 

“ You did n’t wet us a bit because you played 
the hose into the wrong room ! ” 

“ Oh, what an awful take-in ! ” 

Till the boys fled in dismay, and Newton, sud- 


iii 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


denly grasping the situation, called out : “ Hi, 
hold on, fellows ! Take me along, too ! I ’ll 
bunk anywhere rather than face that crowd 
upstairs ! ” 

It was useless to try to clear up at that time 
of night, so Pansy went to sleep in her mother’s 
bed, and Frances tucked herself up on her 
couch, there to continue her dreams. 

Newton never heard the last of his “revenge.” 

After this lively experience, which was not 
by any means the last of those eventful two 
months at the shore, although* none ever again 
quite came up to that prank — for which Mrs. 
Eames was duly thankful — the time fled all too 
quickly, and when September arrived it found 
Frances back in Kenwood, busily searching for 
a small house. She was determined to have the 
children with her, and felt that boarding 
would then be out of the question. But to find 
a small house in Kenwood, in a locality where 
she felt that she could live, and for the sum she 
felt she could afford to pay for rental, was not 


1 1 2 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


an easy matter. Mrs. Eames was still at the 
shore, and would not return till the second week 
in September, as the weather still continued 
warm, and Pansy begged to be allowed “just a 
few more dips ” before her school — one of the 
private schools of Kenwood — would open late in 
the month. Frances had not spoken to Mrs. 
Eames of her intentions regarding Edith and 
Morton, and Mrs. Eames believed that she had 
decided to return to Mrs. Beldon’s. 

It was the last week in August when Frances 
bade good-bye to her friends at Indian Point to 
return to Kenwood and begin her house-hunting. 
No doubt Mrs. Eames could, and would gladly, 
have given her somewise advice, but Frances hesi- 
tated to ask it, feeling that her friends had al- 
ready been very kind indeed, and made it pos- 
sible for her to enjoy a truly delightful vacation, 
for in truth it had amounted to just that, as 
Frances had shared all their pleasures, and the 
hardest duty which had been demanded of her 
JI 3 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


was to be entertaining and liaye as pleasant a time 
as possible. 

Edith and Morton were to come on the tenth, 
and, within the short interval between her re- 
turn and that date, Frances really did wonders. 
Finding that an entire house was altogether out 
of the question, she rented the lower part of one 
in a quiet, secluded neighborhood, and then pro- 
ceeded to furnish it simply but tastefully, and 
with furniture that she felt would last a good 
while under vigorous handling ; for far in the 
future were faint visions of college life with her 
family gathered about her, and the present pur- 
chases were the nucleus of what would furnish 
that larger home when the time should arrive for 
its need. Never did this brave girl falter ; never 
once was she daunted by the mountains of diffi- 
culties she would be forced to climb before that 
longed-for goal could possibly be reached. If 
there were mountains, why, climb over, or dig 
through them! Nothing is impossible! By 
dint of perseverance, tenacity of purpose and 

114 


A SUDDEN SHOWER 


courage — the proper sort — wonders could, of 
course, be accomplished. Others had done these 
things, so why should not she ? How great were 
those wonders, which she with her girlish 
strength and purpose was destined to bring 
about, she never for a single moment suspected. 
Indeed, she never realized that she was doing 
anything in the least remarkable or commenda- 
tory. It was just simple duty, and if she did not 
find right at hand what was needed, she at once 
proceeded to make it by some means or other. 
She never thought of giving up simply because 
the thing she wished and longed for was really a 
very great thing indeed, but she set about utiliz- 
ing the small means at hand, and these, growing 
like the tiny snowball as it rolls, led to the noble 
object which she ever had in view. The Lord 
had given her a beautiful pair of eyes, of which 
she made the most ; sharp ears, which caught 
every word liable to prove helpful, and a clear, 
logical mind in which to store impressions. 
She had never known a day’s illness, and con- 
JI 5 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


sequently thought that such a thing could never 
be. She did not learn her lesson of prudence 
till she treated poor Mother Nature shabbily, 
and that dame resented the slight. 

116 


CHAPTER IX 


DOUGHNUTS 

“ HALL I lock the door when I come, 
Francie?” 

" Yes, Chickie. Morton will go right 
on to school as soon as he leaves the order at 
the grocer's for me, and tells the butcher what to 
bring for dinner. Now, don’t try to read any 
more until you get to school, dearie, for you have 
used the eyes a good bit this morning, and you 
must remember what Dr. Gramm said, ‘ Eile mit 
weile and now that you are becoming such a 
famous German scholar you must not disregard 
his orders,” said Frances, as she bent down to 
kiss the little girl who sat in the low rocking- 
chair gently stroking Tabby “ Blessumheart’s ” 
silver-gray fur, much to that dignified Puss’s 

'S~ Doughnuts and Diploma. _ 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


delight, for Tabby had come all the way from 
Mitonville with her little mistress, and brought 
her family along, too. There was “ Cynthia 
Blessumheart ” and “ Nebuchadnezzar Blessum- 
heart,” although the latter was usually addressed 
as plain, every-day “ Neb.” Just now the feline 
brother and sister were perched upon the sunny 
window-seat making faces at some audacious 
sparrows which were taunting them from their 
vantage-point outside the window-panes. 

It was a cheery little room, one of the five 
over which Frances ruled as mistress, cook, 
housemaid and self-constituted “ mother,” at the 
same time attending to her duties in school, and 
managing somehow to find time for one or two 
hours’ study when Edith and Morton were in 
the Land of Nod. Up betimes in the morning, 
she had their simple breakfast prepared and the 
heaviest work done, leaving for Morton and 
Edith the small household chores, which they 
gladly did for the sister who was opening such 
a fairyland for them by her untiring energy. 

118 


DOUGHNUTS 


Morton liad at once entered the school, and 
Frances was delighted to find that the keen com- 
petition in such a large class was firing him with 
an ambition to stand well with his fellows. He 
had never evinced any great love for study for 
study’s sake, and had always hated “to get left,” 
as he tersely put it. 

Edith could not, of course, do a great deal of 
studying, owing to the still rather delicate 
health and weak eyes, although both were 
greatly improved, and the change of air was 
certainly doing much for the little girl. More- 
over, she had never in all her life been so 
happy, for she was a true little housewife, and 
their present manner of living was like playing 
at housekeeping every day of her life, and never 
grew monotonous. Frances had arranged that 
Edith should attend certain classes, and to these 
she went daily, slipping in shyly when she 
thought others were not noticing her, and 
having a good time in her own quiet way. 

Edith did not leave the house until ten o’clock, 

119 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


and the interval between Frances’ departure at 
lialf-past eight and her own setting out was 
truly a blissful one for the imaginative, sensitive 
child. During this quiet time she created all 
sorts of marvels within the modest walls of their 
home, and the prosy old couple upstairs never 
suspected that in the silent apartment beneath 
them was an “ unsichtbares Konigreich,” wherein 
dwelt “ Die Konigin, die keine PfefFerniisse 
hacken konnte,” although it would have been 
more appropriate, perhaps, had she been igno- 
rant of the receipt for doughnuts, as those were 
destined to figure more conspicuously in Edith’s 
future than “ pepper-nuts.” These characters, 
and dozens of others from the dear old German 
fairy tales which Edith had learned to read in 
the original, were released from between the 
covers of their book as soon as she was alone, 
and filled the rooms with their presence. Tabby 
Blessumheart and her children were often trans- 
formed into the wonderful “White Cat,” or 
“ Puss-in-Boots,” to act out all sorts of antics 


120 


DOUGHNUTS 


at tlieir little mistress’s bidding, and to their 
own intense disgust, although they never be- 
trayed any secrets upon Frances’ or Morton’s 
return. 

Edith had finished all her little household 
duties, playing that she was the princess who 
lived all alone with the little elves, and that 
Tabby Blessumlieart and her children were a 
royal queen and her children whom a wicked 
witch had transformed into cats, and who could 
never be restored till a noble prince should 
come to the cottage and deliver into her hands 
a treasure which she was to guard for them till 
a certain date. This treasure was to be in the 
form of some every-day article of food, which 
she would cook and give to the queen and her 
children to eat; but the charm would utterly 
fail if the messenger who brought it spoke one 
single word when he delivered it. So real did it 
all seem to this high-strung little mortal, that 
she actually quivered with excitement when she 
went to the door to take from the butcher-boy 


1 2 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


tlie steak which Frances had ordered, and lest 
she should be the means of breaking the charm, 
she stood behind the door, and, reaching one 
hand through a crack, took the parcel from him 
without allowing him to see her. The boy gave 
a grunt of perplexity at his odd reception, but 
spoke no word, and with a sigh of intense relief 
Edith clapped the door shut, and dropped into 
a chair almost in a state of collapse. 

“ Now, I’ll get to school just as quick as ever 
I can,” she said to herself, “and after lessons 
are over I’ll hurry home and cook the steak, 
and give a morsel to the queen and her chil- 
dren.” 

Living thus in the strange world of her own 
fancies, this odd child locked the front door and 
slipped away to school, where her lessons were 
recited with absolute correctness, and in such a 
practical, comprehending manner that her 
teacher would have been indeed amazed could 
she have suspected the other side of her pupil’s 
nature, or have been aware of the sub-conscious- 


122 


DOUGHNUTS 


ness at work in that active little brain, filled 
thus by facts side by side with fancies. 

When Edith reached home, about half an 
hour before Frances and Morton, she found a 
little note slipped beneath the door for Frances. 
Carrying it into the sitting-room, she laid it 
upon the table, where it would at once be seen, 
and then proceeded to get the dinner ready. 
Although but little past eleven, Edith was a 
capable little body, and Frances always had 
everything carefully prepared beforehand. So, 
by the time the others arrived, the dinner was 
smoking upon the table, and they never sus- 
pected that the cat and kittens, sitting among 
the posy pots in the window, and contentedly 
washing their faces and paws, were undergoing 
peculiar physical evolutions destined to produce 
startling results. 

“What is this, Chickie?” asked Frances, 
taking up the note. 

“ I found it under the door when I got home, ,, 
answered Edith. 


123 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Frances broke the pretty little seal, ancl 
smiled as she read the opening lines. The note 
was from Mrs. Eames, asking her to come to 
them upon the following afternoon and bring 
the children with her, for a Hallowe’en merry- 
making was to take place, and some young peo- 
ple were invited for the evening. 

“ Please come over as early as possible, for I 
am going to make some of the famous dough- 
nuts, and this will be a good opportunity for 
you to learn how. The youngsters can have a 
good romp with Pansy, as it will be Friday, 
and there are no lessons to be thought of for the 
morrow.” 

“ Oh, I say ! What fun !” cried Morton, for 
he dearly loved to go to Mrs. Eames’ home, 
and play some of the endless “ puzzle-games ” 
with which Pansy was wejl provided. Shyer 
Edith was none the less pleased, but gave little 
evidence of her delight. 

As soon as they could get ready upon the 
following afternoon, all hurried over to Mrs. 


124 


DOUGHNUTS 


Eames’ home. They were met by that lady in 
the front hall, flourishing a great wooden spoon 
in one hand and a box of nutmegs in the other. 
She was enveloped in a huge gingham apron, 
and had a fascinating little muslin cap pinned 
upon her pretty brown hair. 

“ I saw you coming, so rushed out to give you 
welcome,” she cried, flourishing her big spoon. 
“ Take off your coat, Laddie, and then fly up- 
stairs to the play-room, for Pansy has every 
game she possesses dragged forth and ready to 
begin. Run up to my room and lay your 
things on the couch, girls, and then come straight 
down here, for I *ve had some pretty new music 
sent from town, and am wild to hear it, only I 
can’t stop to try it just now, and I am sure that 
Edith will play it over for me. And Frances, 
you are to come and give your undivided atten- 
tion to doughnuts, for, if you succeed in making 
them properly, I shall enter your name as a con- 
signer at the exchange, and you will become 
famous ! ” and, rattling on in a cheery manner, 

125 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


she instantly made her guests happy in the way 
which was sure to please them best. A few 
moments latter, Edith, seated all by herself in 
the quiet parlor, and running her fingers over 
the white keys of the handsome piano, never 
suspected that the half-dozen simple but care- 
fully selected pieces that she found upon the 
rack, which she would try, as she supposed, for 
Mrs. Eames’ benefit, had been purchased by 
that lady herself when last in town, and laid 
away for this very occasion. 

Out in the kitchen Frances donned a com- 
panion apron to the one Mrs. Eames wore, and, 
rolling up her sleeves, set to work with a good 
will, while Mary kept up a running comment 
which at times nearly convulsed them both. 
All the incidents of her recent Southern trip had 
to be told to Frances, who was a prime favorite 
of Mary’s, and occasionally William had to be 
called in from the dismantled garden back of 
the kitchen to verify some statement which Mrs. 
Eames, in order to keep Mary going, would 

126 


DOUGHNUTS 


question. Then William’s copper-colored face, 
framed in blue jumper, would look in at the 
kitchen door, and, with a solemn wag of his 
head, he would confirm his wife’s statements. 
Meantime the doughnuts progressed finely and 
before the afternoon ended Mrs. Eames pro- 
nounced Frances an expert. 

“ Now,” cried Mrs. Eames, when the last one 
had been fished from the bubbling lard in which 
it had gradually taken a rich brown color, 
“ nothing remains but to give ‘ the proof of the 
pudding,’ and that we will do this evening when 
these are eaten by our guests. If they are not 
able to tell yours from those I make, you may 
begin business at once, but must promise me that 
you will not quite kill yourself with all your 
work, or I shall repent ever having taught you 
how to make them. You have about all on 
hand now that any reasonable girl ought to 
attempt to carry, but, having made my promise, 
I felt that it must be performed. However, I 
shall keep one eye upon your doings in order 
127 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to feel sure that they are not growing to be over - 
doings. Now, let us go upstairs and rest a while 
before I dress for the evening, for I am a perfect 
fright, and about the color of a turkey-cock. 
Edith is happy, and, to judge from the laughter 
up in the playroom, so are Morton and Pansy. 
So let us toast our toes before the open fire in 
my bedroom while you tell me your plans, and 
perhaps you will let me aid them by my valuable 
advice.” Mrs. Eames slipped her arm around 
Frances’s waist and walked beside her up the 
pretty oak staircase to the dainty bedroom up- 
stairs, where all was in old Delft, and a bright 
cannel-coal fire burned in the shining, brass-fitted 
fireplace. Removing the short street dress which 
she had been wearing, Mrs. Eames slipped on a 
blue and white kimono, and, drawing two softly- 
cushioned wicker rockers in front of the fire, 
said : “ Now, if this is not a womans idea of a 
cosy time, I don’t know what is. So rest and 
luxuriate while you have a chance. You do not 
have any too many chances. Had I known 



Dj ugh nuts and Diplomas — 4, 

“‘RLLST AND LUXURIATE WHILE YOU HAVE A CHANCE.’” 

See p. 128. 



DOUGHNUTS 


what you were planning to undertake this winter, 
I believe that I should have tried my best to 
prevent you, for it is almost too much, and I am 
afraid that you will not be able to stand the 
strain. Teaching alone is enough for most 
people, let alone all four other duties.” 

“ But I have never been ill a single day in all 
my life, and, Mrs. Eames, you cannot think 
how anxious I am to see the children well 
educated, and you have no idea how very limited 
their opportunities were in Mitonville. Father 
was so proud of them,” said Frances, with a 
little catch in her voice, for Frances and her 
father had been all in all to each other. 

“ Yes, I can understand it perfectly ; but it 
seems a great deal for a girl of your age to 
assume unaided. Now, there is just one thing 
that I shall insist upon,” and Mrs. Eames nodded 
her head so positively that the little cap which 
she had forgotten to take off when she changed 
her gown flew wildly into the portable grate 
and met a speedy doom. Frances made a wild 

129 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


dasli for it, but the flames were quicker, and the 
poor little cap sailed up the chimney, a black 
and shriveled mockery of its former snowy crisp- 
ness. “ Oh, what a pity J ” cried the girl as she 
drew back after her vain efforts at rescue, but 
Mrs. Eames only laughed as she said : 

“ ‘ Pride goeth before a fall,’ and our vanities 
are very liable to ‘end in smoke/ When I 
made that cap (and it was made from an old 
sash-curtain), I think I must have spent as much 
as five minutes admiring the effect before my 
mirror, and thinking what a truly ‘ fetching ’ 
thing it was ; to say nothing of my thoughts 
regarding its becomingness. Now, behold the 
end! Vanity of vanities ! ” and her merry, 
infectious laugh pealed through the room. “But 
now, to continue what I was about to say when 
my conceit got burned up, I shall insist upon 
your coming to me if you find yourself in too 
deep waters, and letting me try to help you 
swim out. I may not be able to carry you out 
bodily, but I am sure I can aid a little if you 

130 


DOUGHNUTS 


will only let me, for, remember, you are ‘far 
from liame and your ain countree, ’ and you 
must make believe I am little Mother Eames. 
Will you promise? And now I must dress,” 
and sjDringing up Mrs. Eames kissed Frances 
lightly upon her forehead, and then turned to 
the dressing-table, which held all manner of 
pretty trifles for the toilet. 






















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































- 













CHAPTER X 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 

“ /\H! Miss Fern, may I speak with you 
1 I one moment? We are well met, or 
ratlier it is ‘ well met ’ for me. How 
you will regard it I am not so well prepared 
to say,” and the manager of the “ Woman's Ex- 
change ” laughed as she stepped to one side of 
the walk to speak to Frances as she was hurry- 
ing home from school a day or two before the 
Thanksgiving vacation. 

Frances smiled, too, and answered, pleasantly : 
“ I ought always feel delighted to meet you, 
Miss Bond; for do you not add materially to 
the family exchequer ? ” 

“ I may provide the way of adding to it, but 
you do the real adding,” answered Miss Bond. 

9 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 1 33 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


•‘You see, you have become' so celebrated for 
those marvelous doughnuts since you began 
making them for the Exchange, that I cannot 
keep my customers supplied, and how I am ever 
to fill all these Thanksgiving orders I certainly 
do not know. How many have you on hand 
for me to-day ? ” 

“ I made four dozen last evening, and I am 
now hurrying home to make four dozen more, 
which Morton will bring over early in the 
morning. Will that be sufficient ? ” 

“ Only eight dozen altogether ! Why, I 
already have orders for twelve dozen to-day, 
and I dare not tell you for how many more to- 
morrow lest you grow discouraged ! How many 
can you supply between to-day and Wednesday 
afternoon ? ” 

Frances made an odd face as she replied : 

“ Well, if materials and strength hold out I 
dare say the supply can be almost unlimited, but 
I half hoped that Kenwood would turn to turkeys 
and mince pies for Thanksgiving, and let me off 
*34 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


with a modest order for doughnuts; say about 
twelve dozen. But now you dare not tell me 
how many are needed, so my imagination must 
supply the figure, and my hands provide them if 
I would lay up a fortune this winter to meet 
my vaulting ambitions for next. I have many 
times pictured becoming rich and famous, and 
imagined all sorts of ways of achieving both 
wealth and fame, but I do not believe that even 
in my wildest flights of fancy I ever pictured a 
pot of boiling lard as the vehicle which would 
convey me toward my goal ! ” and a merry 
laugh rang out upon the frosty air. 

“ Don’t stop to say another word,” cried Miss 
Bond; “but fly straight home and fly as though 
your life and fame depended thereupon. Good- 
bye ; for I, too, have my hands full at this 
season.” 

Nodding pleasantly to Frances, off trotted the 
energetic little manager of the Exchange, saying 
to herself: “If that girl does not reach her 
goal, whether it be with a pot of lard or as in- 
135 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


structor of Latin, I shall miss my guess ! Slie 
has courage enough for anything.” 

When Frances reached home she found Edith 
and Morton dancing up and down with impa- 
tience, for Mrs. Eames had called with an in- 
vitation for Thanksgiving, and they were to 
spend the night with her and have a Thanks- 
giving eve frolic. 

“ Oh, you ’ll go, won’t you, Francie?” cried 
Morton, as he threw his arms about his sister’s 
neck, and Edith slipped her hand into hers with- 
out saying a word. But a word was unneces- 
sary, for the little girl’s eyes spoke for her. 

Frances dropped into a chair, and drew both 
close to her side as she answered : “ There is 
nothing to prevent both of you from going, but 
I am just a little bit afraid that I shall not be 
able to afford the time.” 

“You not go! Why not? Oh, you must 
come with us ! Mrs. Eames said you must ! ” 
said Morton, as though that dictum were not for 
one moment to be disputed. 

136 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


“I ’d just love to go, dears, but Kenwood is 
such a hungry town that I must help to feed it, 
you know; and Miss Bond, whom I have just 
met, tells me that it is positively insatiable just 
now,” and Frances’ eyes twinkled as she looked 
at the two eager faces so near her own. 

“ Yes, but this is holiday time. Ah, do come, 
Frances ; please, do. It won’t be worth a cent if 
yon don’t,” Morton pleaded. 

“ Have you more doughnuts to make than you 
exjiected, Frances ? ” asked Edith. 

“ I am afraid I have. But I ought not say 
‘ afraid,’ ought I ? Just think how rich we are 
growing ! Why, if I go on so busily I shall 
have enough saved to run off to Ann Arbor 
next fall; and the next thing you know your 
sister will be a university graduate with all the 
world before her, and commanding a salary that 
will enable her to place her brother and sister 
on the road to fame, too ! ” and springing up 
Frances pinched each plump cheek, and then 
crossed the room to remove her hat and jacket. 
137 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


But visions of future fame and university honors 
were not half so alluring to Morton as the 
immediate prospect of a visit at their charming 
friend’s home, with the certainty of a bouncing 
Thanksgiving turkey cooked to a turn. So it 
was no wonder that he continued to beg her to 
go with them, whether or no. 

“ Can’t we do something to help, so that you 
can get the doughnuts all made before it is time 
to go ? ” begged Edith. “ I ’ll do all the work, 
and Morton will help just as hard as ever he 
can, won’t you, Mort ? ” 

“Course I will! Say the word and I’m 
your man, from cooking supper to making beds. 
Fire away, and tell me what I ’m to do first.” 

“ You ’re just dears, both of you ; and I don’t 
know what I should ever do without you, but 
truly there is n’t a single thing that you can do 
just now. Little Chickie, here, has been a regular 
little house-fairy, as usual, during my absence, 
and everything is spandy. Besides, you both 
have your lessons to prepare this evening. And 
138 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


now I must wield my magic wand over my 
doughnut kettle, and evolve brown marvels. 
Then, to-morrow morning, Morton can fly up to 
the Exchange with them, and find out how 
many more will be needed. Miss Bond did not 
dare tell me this afternoon, so I dare say it will 
be a perfect mountain of them ! ” 

Frances stepped into the room which she 
shared with Edith, and a moment later emerged 
from it enveloped in a big apron and dainty 
cooking-cap. Then, going into the little kitchen, 
she sat busily about making her doughnuts. 

Ethel and Morton stood looking out of the 
window till the latter caught sight of some boy 
friends, and ran out to join them in a game of 
ball. Edith followed Frances into the kitchen, 
where she trotted back and forth from stove to 
table with the hot doughnuts as fast as Frances 
fished them out of the boiling lard. When 
supper-time came, and the busy child was laying 
the table, eight dozen tempting, sugar-sprinkled 
doughnuts lay upon the pantry board, and a 
139 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


tired, flusked-faced girl dropped upon a chair to 
survey the result of lier labors. 

“ Poor Francie, you’re dreadfully tired, are n’t 
you ? ” asked Edith, as she rested her cool, soft 
cheek against Frances’ warm one. 

“Well — -just a wee, wee bit, Chickie; but I 
shall be all right as soon as I have eaten supper. 
It has been a .busy day for me.” 

“ Will you lie down on the couch and let me 
read to you this evening, after I have done my 
lesson ? I ’ve only one to do.” 

“It would be just the nicest thing, I know,” 
answered Frances. “But I must go over the 
examination-papers, and when those are done 
try for one hour’s study myself. Wliat will 
become of me if I should fall behind in my own 
examinations, when the time comes, do you sup- 
pose? You will be so ashamed of me ! ” 

“ Indeed, I sha’n’t ! ” cried Edith, indignantly, 
for she could not bear the least word of dis- 
paragement directed toward this sister whom she 
loved so dearly. “I don’t see how in the world 


140 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


you study one bit when you work so hard all 
day. I should go straight to sleep — I know that 
I should.” 

Frances did not tell the child that more than 
once this had happened, or that the elder sister 
was beginning to understand that human ma- 
chinery can reach a limit of endurance. 

The clock upon the mantel had struck eleven, 
and Morton and Edith had long been in the 
land of dreams when Frances laid aside the last 
examination paper, and leaning back in her 
chair drew a weary sigh as she clasped her hands 
upon her hot forehead. Gathering up the papers, 
she laid them in a pile, and then, turning to the 
little bookcase beside her, drew from it her text^ 
books and began to read. Twelve had struck 
when she gave her head an impatient toss and 
exclaimed beneath her breath : 

“ What in this world ails me to-night ? I 
think that I was never so stupid in all my life ! 
I do not seem to be able to grasp anything, much 
less retain it five minutes. I have been over 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


that page four times f and do not seem to have 
any more idea of its contents than I should had 
I never opened it. I wonder if a breath of fresh 
air will brighten me up a bit ? ” 

Going to the front door she stepped out upon 
the tiny porch, and drew in long breaths of the 
clear, cold air. Now, cold, fresh air is an excel- 
lent thing when properly breathed into the 
lungs, but when one is utterly weary, both physi- 
cally and mentally, and has been seated for 
hours in a warm room poring over difficult 
studies and working a brain already far too weary 
to work, it is not just the thing to encounter cold 
air suddenly, and without a wrap. Frances stood 
upon the porch about ten minutes, and then re- 
turned to the sitting-room. 

“ That was what I needed,” she said, as she 
again settled down to her reading, “and I am 
good for another hour’s work, anyway ! ” 

But long before the hour ended exhausted 
nature asserted herself, and the weary girl was 
142 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


fast asleep with her head pillowed upon her open 
book. 

Half-past two was striking when she started 
from this first sleep of exhaustion, and Frances 
stared about her in complete bewilderment. 
The fire in the little stove had long since burned 
out, and the student-lamp was flickering dismally 
for want of oil. With a shiver, Frances came 
back to her surroundings, and, rising stiffly 
from her cramped position, set about preparing 
for bed. But when there she tossed and turned 
till nearly dawn, because the nerves that had 
been so sorely overtaxed positively refused to 
calm down when bidden. 

“ She wants eighteen dozen more ! ” burst out 
Morton, as he rushed into the sitting-room upon 
the following morning. He had just come from 
the Exchange, where he had been to deliver 
Frances’ last consignment of doughnuts. “And 
I told her I just guessed you could n’t make 
’em. You can’t ; can you ? ” and Morton looked 
*43 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


as though he hoped that she would say that she 
could n’t. 

“ Oh, Morton, you did n’t tell her that I 
couldn’t; did you?” asked Frances, in much 
concern. 

“ Well, I told her I did n’t see how you were 
going to make ’em unless you sat up all night ; 
and she said that she would n’t be surprised to 
hear that you had done so if it were necessary. 
Hang the old doughnuts ! — they just knock spots 
out of going to Mrs. Eames’ ! ” and Morton 
looked thoroughly disgusted, and cast menacing 
glances at the fat little doughnut-pot, which 
could be seen upon the kitchen-table from where 
he stood. 

“ I ’m afraid that I do not appreciate my suc- 
cess half so much as I ought to,” sighed Fran- 
ces ; “ for I certainly do want dreadfully to go 
to Mrs. Eames’, hut it is out of the question 
now, and there is no use to groan about it. But 
you and Edith shall go, and have a good time, 
anyway.” 


144 


THANKSGIVING ORDERS 


“And leave you home here all alone to boil 
yourself over that hanged old pot ? ” and Mor- 
ton flung himself out of the room in disgust with 
Kenwood, which had suddenly developed such 
an appetite for doughnuts. 

“I don’t believe I can enjoy myself one bit, 
Francie. Won’t you, please, let me stay at home 
with you ? ” Edith begged. 

“ Could n’t think of such a thing possibly ! 
But good-bye, dearie ; I must be off now,” and 
away Frances hurried. 

* 45 


CHAPTER XI 

Frances’ thanksgiving 

“ OOD-BYE, dears. Have a lovely time, 
1 "TT and don’t forget to give my note to 
Mrs. Eames,” said Frances as she 
bade Morton and Edith good-bye the following 
afternoon, and saw them depart reluctantly with- 
out her. Edith turned back again and again to 
wave farewell to Frances, for it was entirely con- 
trary to her wishes that she should go to Mrs. 
Eames’ for a merrymaking while Frances 
remained at home to work for their benefit. 
Edith had protested against going to the very 
last, and Frances had nearly been forced to 
strong measures in order to make the child go 
at all. Now, as their sister watched them out 
of sight, her eyes filled with tears at the thought 
147 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


of tlie child’s unselfishness, and she murmured 
beneath her breath : “ Dear little Chickie, it was 
hard to give it up, but I must make hay while 
the sun shines, or we shall have to sleep upon the 
ground instead of the fine mattresses I am striv- 
ing for ! ” and then she bravely set about the 
burdensome task before her. 

The day had been a particularly trying one, 
for, with vacation just before them, her pupils 
had been anything but attentive. One inter- 
ruption had followed another until poor Frances 
had been driven nearly wild. One of her most 
trying experiences had been a visit from the 
mother of one of her pupils. This lady had 
formerly been a teacher herself, and had taught 
in a city which prided itself upon its advanced 
methods and remarkable facilities. With these 
advantages Mrs. Wells was prone to contrast 
those offered by the Kenwood school, much to 
that school’s detriment. Upon this busy morning 
she had elected to call. She had seated herself 
upon the platform in Frances’ room, from which 
148 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


vantage-ground her beady eyes noted every de- 
tail of the room, every act of the pupils and 
every step of the young teacher’s work, upon 
which she commented freely, and gave advice 
without stint, until the poor girl was driven 
nearly distracted. When at her wits’ end, 
and while the class — which, like all classes under 
similar conditions, had not been slow to take 
advantage of its teacher’s distraught frame of 
mind — was indulging in whisperings, wrigglings 
and gigglings, the principal entered to inspect 
things generally. The look which passed over 
his face at the state of affairs did not serve to 
reassure nerve-taxed Frances. Happily, the 
principal espied Mrs. Wells, and, having had 
considerable experience with that lady himself, 
shrewdly guessed the cause of the trouble. 
Being a man of great tact, he promptly invited 
that lady to visit his office. Then, suddenly 
remembering that he was needed in another 
portion of the building, bade her a most cour- 
teous adieu at the front door, so that, before she 

jo — Doughnuts and Diplomas. \ aq 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


had time to realize what had happened, Mrs. 
Wells found herself and her theories upon the 
outside of the school-building. 

It was nearly five o’clock before Frances began 
her doughnuts, for she had not reached home 
until four, and then she had had to get the 
children ready and their small satchel packed. 
She had promised that she would surely join 
them at Mrs. Eames’ in time for the two o’clock 
dinner next day, and it was upon the strength 
of that promise that she had induced them to go 
without her. 

From stove to table she trotted, and with 
each journey the pile of flaky doughnuts grew. 
She forgot all about her supper, and even forgot 
that she was hungry. Not until a queer, faint 
feeling passed over her, when the hands of the 
clock were pointing to eight, did she realize that 
she had not eaten anything since noon, and 
only a morsel then ; for she had been too ner- 
vously exhausted from the morning’s trials to 
* 5 ° 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


care for food, and two cups of coffee had stimu- 
lated her, but had not fed her. 

But the eighteen dozen doughnuts were not 
yet completed, and to stop in the midst of the 
work would mean ruin to those still to be cooked; 
so Frances hastily made a cup of tea, cut some 
slices of brown bread, and ate as she worked. 
It was past ten o’clock before the last doughnut 
was rolled in paraffine paper and had been laid 
carefully in the boxes which were to be called 
for early in the morning. Miss Bond had de- 
clared that Frances should not send them on 
Thanksgiving day, and had arranged with the 
ladies who wished them to have their coachmen 
call at Frances’ home for the doughnuts, assert- 
ing that Miss Fern had been at great expense 
of time and strength to fill the orders at all at 
so short a notice. For this thoughtfulness 
Frances was duly grateful, and when all was 
ready for the first “ early bird” the morning 
should bring forth, she tidied up her kitchen 
and went to bed. 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


For five hours she slept the sleep of utter 
exhaustion, and then wakened suddenly from a 
strange dream. She had dreamed that she was 
sitting in the refrigerator trying to eat her sup- 
per ; but as fast as she reached for an article of 
food it took the form of a doughnut, and was 
jerked from her grasp by Mrs. Wells, who at 
the same time informed her that “ in Minneapo- 
lis schools doughnuts were considered unwhole- 
some.” 

Once wide awake, Frances’ visions of the 
events of the previous day vanished, and she 
realized that she was shivering as with an ague, 
and that her head was aching as if it would 
burst. Lighting the lamp beside her bed, she 
got up, and with teeth chattering and head in a 
whirl, threw her flannel robe about her and 
started for the kitchen, thinking that she would 
make a cup of hot tea to warm her up and over- 
come the utterly all-gone feeling which was 
making her tremble so. But the fire was out, 
the water cold, and everything as cheerless and 
152 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


forlorn as one usually finds things at four a. m. 
upon a cold November morning when one is the 
sole occupant of a house. 

With teeth chattering, Frances took a pitcher 
of milk from the refrigerator, poured some into 
a tin-cup, and, then stumbling back to her room, 
tried to take the chill from the milk by holding 
it over her lamp. In this she met with as much 
success as one usually finds in such attempts, 
for as the milk grew lukewarm Frances grew 
icy cold; and by the time she made up her 
mind to drink it she did not care much whether 
it was hot or cold. When she had swallowed it 
she put an extra cover upon the bed, and 
crawled in, robe and all, and that was the last 
she knew until she opened her eyes to find Mrs. 
Earnes and a doctor beside her, while Edith and 
Morton looked over their shoulders with scared, 
white faces. 

“Why, what in the world is the matter?” 
she demanded, in a hoarse voice, struggling into 
a sitting position, but falling back with a little 
i53 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


cry, for the foot of the bed seemed to come up, 
and a sharp pain just beneath her shoulders 
caused her to catch her breath. 

“Why, you are trying to misbehave upon 
Thanksgiving day,” said Mrs. Eames, as she 
bent over her and smoothed back the hair from 
the hot forehead — “and we have come to call 
you to account. As you did not appear at noon, 
according to your promise, we decided to come 
to see what you were up to, and we found you 
still in the Land of Nod. You seemed a little 
feverish; so I sent Morton for Dr. Bland and 
Mrs. Barker, and we shall soon have you all 
right again. I am afraid that the last dozen 
doughnuts were too much for you.” 

Mrs. Eames did not add that when she had 
arrived, at noon, she had been unable to gain 
admittance, and that Morton had to squeeze 
himself through the cellar window, left open a 
crack for Madam Blessumheart’s accommoda- 
tion. When they were finally in, they found 
Frances in a sort of stupor, and with a tempera- 
154 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


tare which caused Mrs. Earnes’ face to turn 
white. Morton was hurried off for her own 
physician, while she and Edith built a fire and 
heated water. The old people who lived up- 
stairs had gone to spend Thanksgiving with 
their children, and poor Frances might have 
gone a much longer journey than they without 
anyone in the neighborhood ever suspecting the 
condition of things in that lonely house. 

“ What time is it? ” croaked Frances. 

“ Half-past two,” replied Mrs. Eames. “ You 
see you have been paying up for lost naps. You 
are having a fine one to-day.” 

“ But I must get up,” said Frances. “ I can’t 
stay here like this.” 

Dr. Bland felt that it was quite time that he 
took matters in hand; so drew his chair to the 
side of the bed, and said : 

“ Mrs. Eames has been good enough to install 
me as master of ceremonies in this room, and I 
shall have to assume command at once, I see. 
You must not attempt to leave your bed until I 
*55 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


give you permission ; for you have a very severe 
cold, and it would be dangerous to take any 
chances. In a day or two we hope to have you 
in good order again; but meanwhile you will 
follow my instructions, will you not ? ” 

“But what will the children do?” asked 
Frances, her first thoughts, as usual, for them. 

“ The children shall come and stay with me 
for a few days,” broke in Mrs. Eames, “and I 
shall have Mrs. Barker here to take care of you. 
Her name does not sound encouraging, I will 
admit ; but the bark is far worse than the bite. 
She is a famous nurse, and will care for you 
like a solicitous old hen. She is my right-hand 
woman in case of illness, and will be a whole 
host here, where she can keep house, nurse, and 
order you about to her heart’s content.” 

“But Mrs. Eames,” began Frances ; but she 
got no further, for Mrs. Eames laid her finger 
softly upon Frances’ lips and stopped the 
words. 

“ If Dr. Bland is master, bear in mind that I 
156 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


am mistress, and you will have a liard time to 
disobey us. It is all right, and we will not worry 
ourselves over ways and means just now, but you 
must make haste to get well. Mrs. Barker will 
be here in a little while, and the children shall 
go right back with me and have their dinner at 
six instead of two. They may come to see you 
early in the morning, but I think you will be 
better for the entire rest and quiet to-day. Do 
you not agree with me, Dr. Bland ? ” 

“ Fully. You would make a capital nurse.” 

Edith had slipped around to the other side of 
the bed and was petting Frances’ hot hand. 
The tears were not far from her eyes, and 
Frances tried to smile a reassuring smile to com- 
fort her. 

“ Won’t you, please , let me stay with you, 
Francie ? ” she whispered. “ I don’t want to go 
and leave you, and I can't eat any turkey when 
I know you are so dreadful sick. Please, let me 
stay.” 

“ Do you want to make me very happy and 
i57 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


comfortable, Chickie ? ” asked Frances, knowing 
that the surest way of winning the child to do 
as she wished to have her would be to put the 
request as a favor to herself. 

“ Oh, yes ; so much.’’ 

“ Then go with Mrs. Eames and Morton and 
have a pleasant time, so that I shall not have to 
make this stupid, tired old head think even a 
single thought for you and Morton. I shall 
only think that you are with the dearest lady in 
Kenwood, or anywhere else, and that you are 
having a lovely time. Then I shall go off to 
sleep and leave Mrs. Barker to keep house. 
Sha’n’t I be in luxury ? ” 

“Do you truly, truly want me to go?” 

“ Yes, I truly do.” 

Just then there was a firm footfall upon the 
porch, and a moment later in bustled a plump, 
matronly figure, which reminded one of nothing 
in this world but a sack of flour tied tightly in 
at the middle and surmounted by a rosy, bald- 
158 


FRANCES' THANKSGIVING 


win apple. Mrs. Eames hurried into the next 
room to meet it and was greeted with : 

“Lawsy me! lawsy me, Mis’ Eames, guess 
you thought I was n’t never goin’ ter git here 
in the world. But that Torm and Elviny, to 
say nothin’ of husbun’, jist ate and ate till I 
thought they ’d kill theirselves fer certain, an’ 
last I said, ‘ You ’ve jist got ter do up the dishes 
yourselves, for I ain’t goin’ ter keep Mis’ Eames 
waitin’ another minit/ an’ off I comes. Land 
sake ! for all I knows they ’re still eatin’,” and 
Mrs. Barker’s fingers worked as fast as her 
tongue wagged as she removed her hat and 
shawl, whisked a clean apron from her satchel, 
gave a pat to the already smooth hair, and 
added : 

“ Now I be all ready ter learn my lesson and 
what I ’m ter do.” 

In a few words Mrs. Eames explained the 
situation to her, dropping some hints about 
Frances and the struggle she was making, for 
she knew that this good woman’s sympathies 
i59 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


need only be aroused to put her upon her mettle, 
and that Frances would be cared for as tenderly 
as though she were the eldest daughter of Saman- 
tha Barker, nurse, seamstress, counselor, consoler 
or what-not when needed. 

“My land! An’ she here all-stark-livin’- 
alone all night ! ” cried Mrs. Barker, sympathy 
encompassing her as a garment. “Let me go 
straight in an’ take care of her right otf. Tut, 
tut! ” and off she toddled with surprising agility 
for one who boasted but five feet, yet tipped 
the scales at one hundred and seventy. 

“Well, well, you precious lamb, all tired out 
an’ got a dretful cold, too ! How do, Dr. Bland? 
Glad ter see yer here where yer ’re needed. We 
two ginerally manages ter git our patients up 
pretty quick, don't we? How do, Sissy? How 
do, Bub? Miss Fern’s brother an’ sister, ain’t 
ye? Now don’t ye fret about her a mite, fer 
I ’ll take prime care o’ her and have her bright 
as a button in jist no time. Dr. Bland there ’s 
pretty good, but its the nussin’ what tells every 

160 


FRANCES’ THANKSGIVING 


time, don’t it, doctor ? You can’t go back on 
that, cause I ’ve heered you say so, heaps of 
times. Now don’t you think of one thing but 
gittin’ well, baby, an’ I ’ll think of all the rest 
ter be done. Here, them bedclothes is in a 
pretty tangle. Land sake, I don’t wonder 
you ’re restless and uncomfortable ! Now, you 
all go ’long out in the other room while I fix up 
my patient. Then I ’ll come out fer my orders.” 

Without a word of protest all filed out, leaving 
her undisputed queen of her realm ; and with a 
sigh of intense relief Frances submitted to her 
ministrations. It was wonderful to see this fat, 
dumpy little body go about her duties, for one 
naturally associates a slight, delicately propor- 
tioned person with gentleness of touch and 
repose of manner. But nothing could have 
been more soothing than the way in which this 
little tub of a woman lifted Frances into a more 
comfortable position, put the bed into proper 
shape, and, before one could have said “Jack 
Robinson,” transformed the tumbled bed and 
161 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


tossed-up room. Then she proceeded to tidy 
Frances’ hair, and to bathe her hot face and 
hands, sprinkling into the water some of the 
violet-water she found upon the dressing-table. 

“ There, you dear lamb, you look like folks 
now, and feel like the right bower, I know ! ” 
said the kindly nurse. 

“ If I am the right bower, you must be the 
trump queen,” answered Frances, which pleased 
her nurse mightily. 

“ Now I be a-goin’ out ter git my orders from 
Dr. Bland and Mis’ Eames, and do you try to 
take forty winks while I ’m gone. You ’ll 
have time enough, fer he ’s kind er long-winded;” 
and, nodding reassuringly, off she trotted, leav- 
ing Frances to close her eyes in a state half 
sleeping, half waking. 

162 


CHAPTER XII 


AS ADOPTED DAUGHTER 

“ IkTOW, remember, you are my adopted 
^ daughter Frances, and I am little 
Mother Eames, and I shall order you 
about to my heart’s content. You are bigger 
than I am, but that does n’t signify in the least ; 
I shall control you by the power of my eye and 
the might of my dignity,” and Mrs. Eames drew 
herself up to the full height of her towering five 
feet, folded her arms and looked as severe and 
dignified as it was possible for such a tiny woman 
to look. 

Frances stood beside the pretty mantel-shelf, 
and, resting one arm upon it, laughed softly. 

“ You need not laugh. Just try to overstep 
the bounds which I have laid down for you and 

163 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


you will see what will be done. Do you think I 
have taken the law into my own hands to be 
thwarted at the very outset ? No, indeed ! Now, 
I have you safe under my roof, where I can 
keep a watchful eye upon you for the remainder 
of the winter, and have succeeded in persuading 
you to send the children back to Mitonville, and 
to give up household cares, do you think that all 
my duties are ended ? Why, they have only 
begun, and I shall take very good care that we do 
not have another six weeks’ siege of pneumonia 
this winter. This is your castle, and no one shall 
invade it without your consent. Here you may do 
exactly as you choose. My room across the hall 
shall be the Council Chamber, and there you are 
to come when a weighty question is to be settled. 
Pansy’s room, next you, is Recreation Hall, and 
there you two may train to your heart’s content. 
When you are stronger and able to resume your 
doughnut business, you will find a little corner 
of the laundry all rigged up for a bakery, where 
you may mess about all you wish to, and cook 
164 


AS ADOPTED DAUGHTER 


doughnuts by the hundred. Nobody ever uses 
the gas-stove down there, and you are welcome 
to it.” 

“ I wish you would tell me how I am ever to 
repay you for all you are doing for me, Mrs. 
Eames,” said Frances, as she walked across to 
where Mrs. Eames stood, and rested a hand upon 
each of her shoulders, peering into her face with 
those great, dusky eyes until Mrs. Eames 
cried : 

“What do you mean by trying to stare me 
entirely out of countenance, you impertinent 
child? Have I not already told you just what 
you are to do ? If you obey my orders im- 
plicitly, you will cancel your debts very 
promptly.” 

Frances had just arrived at Mrs. Eames’, 
and was now settled in the pretty room which 
Mrs. Eames had arranged for her. Christmas 
and New Year’s day had passed, and the chil- 
dren had been sent home to Mitonville to enjoy 
them ; but Mrs. Eames had persuaded Frances 

// — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 1 6 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to give up tlie little home and spend the re- 
mainder of the winter beneath her roof. 

It had not been easy to induce the girl to do 
so, for she declared that she should soon be as 
well as ever, and that it was selfish of her to 
give up when both Morton and Edith were so 
happy with her and doing so well in school. 
But the long weeks of illness had told severely 
upon her, and, when she began to go about a 
little, she found that strength did not return so 
rapidly as she had expected, and that the simple 
household duties seemed to loom like a mountain 
before her. Mrs. Barker had remained with 
her “ patient” until she was able to go about the 
house once more, and Edith had been a perfect 
little treasure, anticipating every wish and con- 
ducting herself as prudently as a little old 
woman. But Mrs. Eames felt from the begin- 
ning that Frances ought not to go on as she had 
begun, and that to continue would only mean 
another and more severe breaking-down. So 
she had talked and urged until her point was 
1 66 


AS ADOPTED DAUGHTER 


gained, and Frances was at last established in a 
comfortable room in her own house, with no 
household duties to think of, or mother-respon- 
sibilities to assume. 

It was a delightful little room, with its old- 
rose decorations, pretty, open fireplace, and oak 
furnishings, and as Frances glanced about it she 
thought that it would not be a very difficult 
matter to obey orders while she occupied it. 

“ I shall be the best adopted daughter you 
ever heard of,” she said, “ and, what is more, I 
shall be a model foster-sister. Come here, 
Blossom,” she called to Pansy, who was making 
a wonderful dress for her favorite doll, Hilde- 
garde. The child’s tiny rocking-chair w r as 
drawn close to the sunny window in her dainty 
little room, and the little yellow-trimmed work- 
basket stood close by her side. 

Pansy hopped up, and, running to Frances, 
clasped both arms about her as she nestled her 
curly little head against her. “ You want me?” 
she asked : 


167 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Yes, I have a serious question to ask you,” 
Frances answered, as she smoothed back the 
pretty hair from the little girl’s face. 

Pansy looked half merry, half serious as she 
asked. 

“ Is it truly earnest, or only fun ? ” 

“ It ’s truly earnest.” 

“ I ’m listening hard.” 

“ I want you for my sister. Will you be ? ” 

“How can I when your mamma and my 
mamma are two mammas ? ” the child asked 
gravely. 

“ You can be my foster-sister, and that is 
almost the same, you know.” 

“ That means your take-care-of sister, does n’t 
it ? When mamma was reading to me during 
4 story-hour ’ last evening she read : 4 And the 
fairy said : “ You must take this and foster it 
carefully.” ’ So that is how I know. Yes, I 
should love to have you for a foster-sister, ’cause 
then I could read stories to you just as I read 
them to Hildegarde, and take you out for walks 
1 68 


AS ADOPTED DAUGHTER 


with me just as though you were a truly sister.” 
As she ended, Pansy again nestled close to her 
“ take-care-of ” sister’s side. 

That was a happy winter for Frances, and 
when vacation came she was surprised to find 
how much she had accomplished. As soon as 
strength returned she resumed the doughnut- 
baking, carefully laying aside every penny she 
thus earned, for there had been no demand upon 
the little account at the Kenwood bank, and it 
had grown surprisingly. Mrs. Eames accepted 
a small sum for Frances’s board, knowing full 
well that the girl would never consent to staying 
under other conditions, and the amount paid to 
her each week was put aside for Pansy, Mrs. 
Eames saying that Frances was laying the foun- 
dation of Pansy’s college education as well as 
her own. 

When June arrived an opportunity came for 
Frances to spend two months in the home of a 
college professor in the White Mountains, where, 
in return for caring for a rather delicate boy of 

169 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


twelve, and reading with him one hour daily, 
Professor Harding read two hours with Frances; 
and not one minute of those precious hours was 
ever allowed to slip away without something 
being won from it. 

At last it was September, and with beating 
heart, yet one filled to overflowing with hope, 
Frances packed her trunk, bade good-bye to her 
kind friends, and with only her own courage for 
a companion started for Ann Arbor, where all 
her fate and fortune were to be put to the test 
and she was to win or lose the prize for which 
she been striving so long. 

It was a long journey into a strange land and 
among strange faces, but many a mental picture 
had she formed of it, only to find them vanish 
as a vision when brought face to face with the 
reality. 

She had just one friend in Ann Arbor, 
Newton Fames, who was now a junior, and 
proud of his honors. During her visit at the 
shore the previous summer she and Newton had 
170 


AS ADOPTED DAUGHTER 


been great friends, and many plans had been 
discussed during his Easter vacation which he 
had spent with his brother in Kenwood. New- 
ton had given her the addresses of several houses 
at which he thought she could secure comfortable 
accommodations, and a word of warning against 
several others. 

“ I wish I could be there to meet you when 
you put in an appearance , ” he had said when he 
went back ; “ but I sha’n’t show up until the 
last trump sounds, you know, and you ought 
really go on early if you want to find a decent 
place to stay.” 

So, armed with her addresses, she started off, 
leaving her trunk at the station until she should 
have a roof to shelter it. As she rode along in the 
trolley car, all eyes and all ears for the strange, new 
scenes about her, she thought of her first venture 
in search of a home in Kenwood, and wondered 
what sort of landlady she would come upon here. 
The question was speedily answered, for the con- 
ductor called out the name of the street of which 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


she was in quest, and alighting from the car 
Frances had walked but a few steps before she 
came upon the number. 

172 


CHAPTER XIII 
HOME NUMBER SIX 

I T was rather an imposing dwelling in a 
delightful section of the town, with the 
University buildings close at hand, and 
Frances’ hopes bounded high at the thought of 
finding herself so pleasantly situated. A tidy 
maid admitted her and showed her into a pleasant 
parlor, where she awaited the appearance of her 
who, she hoped, would prove her future landlady. 
But her hopes were dashed when she learned that 
all the rooms were already engaged, and that she 
must hunt further. Mrs. Burton directed her to 
the second address upon the list given her by 
Newton, and kindly wished her success. But at 
the next place the terms were higher than Frances 
felt that she could afford; and at the third she 
173 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


found she would have had to share her room with 
a stranger, which she did not wish to do if she 
could avoid it. One other name remained upon 
her list, and if that failed her, poor Frances felt 
that she would indeed be “a stranger in a strange 
land.” This address was further from the campus 
than any of the others, and the locality was not 
nearly so pleasant; but, taking heart of grace, 
Frances climbed the steps and rang the bell. A 
fat man with a long pipe in his mouth opened 
the door, and, bowing as profoundly as a rather 
corpulent figure permitted, asked her to step 
within. 

“ You will see mine vife aboot der rooms ? 9 

“Yes, if you have any to rent,” answered 
Frances. 

“ Oh, yes, we haf some already yet, chust so. 
I send it in to you right off,” and with another 
bow he took himself and his pipe out of the 
chilly, darkened parlor. A moment later in 
bustled as great a contrast to him as one could 
imagine, whom Frances concluded must be the 
i74 


HOME NUMBER SIX 


“it” whom her host had assured her he would 
send in. 

“ Lookin' for a room, hey ? Ever been here 
before ? Going ter take the hull course ? Expect 
ter pay or work fer your board ? How much do 
you want ter pay ? All sorts of prices in this 
place, you know. Some folks have got a heap o’ 
money ter fling ’round, and some ain’t got ’nough 
ter keep body an’ soul together, but, my land, 
they ’ve got ter be eddicated, never mind what it 
comes to. Can’t see yer hand before yer in here, 
kin yer? Let’s have more light before we talk 
business and with a steady stream of questions 
and comments the woman ran up the window- 
shade, drew a chair in front of Frances, and, 
resting a hand upon each knee, settled herself to 
talk business “ with a vengeance.” Weary and 
worn as she was, Frances could not help smiling 
at the energetic figure before her, and the smile 
did not appear to offend in the least, for Mrs. 
Schmidt at once resumed her questioning. 

“ How did you find out about my house ? ” 
i75 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Your address was given to me by a friend 
who has been at the University two years.” 

“ Ever lived in my house ?” 

“ No, he is one of the Fraternity men.” 

“ What ’s his name ? ” 

“ Mr. Eames.” 

“ Ain’t never heard of it as I know of.” 

“No, I daresay not. He said that he only 
knew of your house from a friend who worked 
in the Laboratory with him last year. His name 
was Fellows.” 

“ Land, yes ! Jim Fellows. Nice young man, 
too. Smart as a steel trap, but not a cent in the 
world. Had a room here all last year, and 
helped in the dining-room for it. Had his 
dinners here, but mercy knows where he got the 
rest of his meals. I could n’t never find out, 
although I tried my level best to. But he was 
cute, I tell yer ; and what he did n’t want known 
nobody did n’t ever find out ; ” and a series of 
nods left no room for doubting her words. “But 
176 


HOME NUMBER SIX 


now tell me what you want. Boom, board, pay 
or work? Which ?” 

Frances had started out with the full intention 
of paying a modest board, but her landlady’s 
voluble tongue had put one or two new ideas into 
her head, and she made some rapid calculations 
before replying. If she could work in part pay- 
ment for her board, that would mean just so 
much saved from her little savings toward 
bringing her family to Ann Arbor during the 
coming year, as she was hoping and praying that 
she might, so she replied : 

“ Will you please tell me what rooms you 
have, and what your terms will be if I do some 
of the work for my board?” 

“ ’T ain’t no use to tell you about the rooms. 
Come along and see ’em. Then we ’ll both 
know where we ’re at. Come upstairs.” 

She hopped up, and, leading the way up to 
the second floor, opened a door, saying : 

“Now, this is a big room. If you have it 
alone (which I ain’t none too anxious fer yer to, 
177 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


’cause I kin make a sight more if I have two or 
three in it), the price will be eight dollars a 
week. This little room next, if yer take board 
too, will be four dollars a week; but if yer help 
with the work, it won’t be but three. There’s 
another upstairs that you kin have, fer two ; but 
there ain’t no way ter heat it, an’ this one is 
liet by a little stove. See the pipe-hole up 
yonder?” 

“ How soon could I have it?” asked Frances. 

“ Fight now this minit, if yer want it. It ’s 
all clean as a pin, an! yer don’t look as if yer 
wanted to trot more ’n a mile more.” 

“I am pretty tired,” answered Frances; “but 
I supposed you would want references or some 
credentials before you took me in.” 

“ You may be the one to be took in, and I 
may be the one to be took in, there ain’t no 
tell in’ which,” answered Mrs. Schmidt, laugh- 
ing. “ That ’s all got to be told in the wash. 
Howsomever, you don’t look so very tumble, 
an’ I guess I resk yer. Where ’s yer trunk?” 

178 


HOME NUMBER SIX 


“ It is down at tlie station. I shall have to 
go back and look after it.” 

“ No, yer won’t, neither. Fritz — here, Fritz ! 
You ain’t gone, are you?” and out she hurried 
to the head of the stairs. 

“ Yell, veil! What you van t, Jinny? How 
I could tell you I vas gone if I was? No, I ’m 
here right away. What you vant?” 

“ Get your things on, right off, for I want yer 
to stop at the station when you go down to the 

market and have Miss My land, what is 

yer name, anyway?” 

“ Miss Fern.” 

“An’ get Miss Fern’s trunk. Here’s her 
check, and tell ’em ter send it up right off, if 
they know what ’s well for ’em. Poky ain’t no 
name for ’em if yer don’t stir ’em up. But 
Fritz will fetch ’em. Fritz is a hustler! You 
wouldn ’t never guess it, but he talks to ’em just 
like a Dutch uncle. I tell him it comes sort 
o’ natural to him. Goodness me ! who ever 
thought that I’d marry a Dutchman? But I 

179 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


might V done a sight worse. Well, make yer- 
self as comfortables a yer kin’ till yer git yer 
duds, and then yer ’ll feel to home some, I 
guess.” 

Off bustled this combination of Yankeeland 
and Westernland to look to her household, 
leaving Frances to wonder what strange expe- 
rience would come to her next. 

180 


CHAPTER XIV 


FRESHMAN YEAR 

F RANCES had decided upon a scientific 
course, and, having worked hard all sum- 
mer and successfully passed her prelimi- 
nary examinations, was now prepared to launch 
upon her freshman year in earnest. As this is 
not a story of university life, but the story of a 
girl striving to win her way through a univer- 
sity, I shall not take you inside the college 
buildings, nor make you listen to the lectures 
and take notes. With one or two exceptions, 
all that concerns Frances can be found upon the 
outside of the buildings, and just beyond the 
campus. Mrs. Schmidt’s house was about three 
blocks from the campus, and this was near 

12 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. j g j 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


enough to keep the inmates in touch with all that 
took place there. 

Frances had been established in her little room 
about a week, and had employed the time in ex- 
ploring the town, locating the various college 
buildings, and reading up for final examina- 
tions. The life was so entirely different from 
what she had expected it to be, for her ideals 
had taken the wildest flights, that they received 
somewhat of a shock when she fell upon the 
reality. As the students began to arrive she 
was forced to confess herself a little disappointed 
in them, for they were not invariably the model 
men and women whom she had pictured, with 
intellect and culture stamped indelibly upon 
each and every brow. They had gathered from 
all quarters of the globe, and when four thousand 
young men and women of every sort and descrip- 
tion, from every nation upon earth, and from 
all sorts and conditions of parents, congregate 
in one moderate-sized town, one must be prepared 
for a variety. 


182 


FRESHMAN YEAR 


There were in the house twenty beside herself, 
and almost as many different parts of the world 
were represented by them. In no instance were 
they men or girls of means, for those who had 
assured incomes did not choose this way of liv- 
ing. Such men belonged to the various frater- 
nities, which had their dining-halls and their 
clubs ; the girls also had theirs and lived very 
much as they would have lived at home. 

But the majority of the students had small 
incomes, and many were wholly dependent upon 
their own exertions. If they passed through 
the college course, it would be due entirely to their 
own efforts and perseverance. 

The day upon which work began in earnest 
the town fairly overflowed with men and maids ; 
many of them old students and old friends. 
Frances had received a brief line from Newton 
saying that he would arrive upon that day, and 
would try to call upon her in the evening. 
This was welcome news to her, for, despite the 
novelty of her surroundings, she felt very, very 
183 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


far away from all who were dear to her, and not 
a little awed at the undertaking before her. 

It was a beautiful evening, cool, crisp and 
starlit. As eight o’clock drew near Frances 
began to look anxiously toward the college build- 
ings, for Newton was a fraternity man, and his 
building was almost within sight of her window. 
As she looked toward the campus, she saw men 
gathering from every direction, until the place 
was literally black with them. Fancying that 
it was some fraternity gathering its members, 
and yet wondering at their numbers, Frances 
made her way down to the sitting-room to en- 
quire. Mrs. Schmidt was sitting by the table 
darning Herr Schmidt’s stockings, and the ener- 
getic manner in which she pushed the big needle 
through that ample sock, rocking away for dear 
life as she darned, and talking as fast as she 
rocked, was a very fair illustration of her char- 
acter. 

“ May I help darn?” asked Frances, as she 
took her seat near the table. Mrs. Schmidt’s 
184 


FRESHMAN YEAR 


daughter, Amelia, sat beside her mother, and, 
looking up, answered for her: 

“ I did n’t suppose college girls knew how to 
darn. ,, 

“ If I may be called a college girl, I am cer- 
tainly an exception, then/’ Frances replied, “for 
I have had enough experience at it to be pro- 
nounced an expert.” 

Miss Amelia, as she was always called by the 
the boarders, looked keenly at Frances from 
beneath her partly-lowered eyelids, and replied : 

“ Well, if they know how, they do not make 
much use of their knowledge, I ’m afraid, to 
judge by some of their stockings that go to the 
washwoman.” 

Frances concluded that Miss Amelia did not 
feel particularly amiable; so, turning to Mrs. 
Schmidt, she asked : 

“ Do you know why all the boys are gather- 
ing upon the campus to-night ? I saw such a lot 
of them from my window.” 

“ Good gracious ! Have they begun that 
185 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


prank already? It’s the Fresh and Soph rush, 
I suppose, and a pretty racket we ’ll have in a 
little while. There! Hear that? They’re at 
it! Let’s go out on the porch and see them, for 
it ’s a sight, I can tell you. There won’t be a 
decent hat in the whole town to-morrow.” 

Still wondering, Frances followed her land- 
lady out upon the porch, where the electric 
lights in the street revealed an ever-increasing 
throng of men, and in the distance arose the 
murmur of many voices, now rising, now falling, 
like a gathering storm. 

A lull came, and then the uproar burst forth. 
It was like a roaring of wild beasts, and down 
the street, helter-skelter, pell-mell, tugging, pull- 
ing, struggling, swaying, laughing and shouting, 
came what to Francis seemed a wild mob. 
Grasping Mrs. Schmidt’s arm, she cried : 

“ What in the world are they doing ? Is it a 
regular fight?” . 

“ My land, no ! It ’s fun ! It ’s the Sopho- 
more rush for hats. It happens every year, and 
186 


FRESHMAN YEAR 


no wild Indian ever felt prouder of his scalps 
than those crazy coots feel of the hats they cap- 
ture from the Fresliies, or the Freshies from 
them; either way about. They stick ’em up in 
their rooms for trophies of their pitched battles, 
and boast of ’em to the girls. Land sakes ! 
Boys will be boys. Mine was every bit as bad ; 
but he’s out West now hustlin’ in earnest, and 
ain’t got time to smash other fellers’ hats and 
Heinrich Schmidt’s Yankee mother laughed at 
the recollection. 

The shouting and yelling continued for more 
than an hour, and the swaying mob went this 
way and that. Occasionally some boy would 
go scurrying by with his arms full of hats, or 
altogether hatless, and just as they were about 
to go indoors, one wild youth came tearing upon 
the porch to cast at Frances’ feet nine more or 
less damaged hats, and shout triumphantly: 

“ Beg pardon for being late, and showing up 
at last somewhat the worse for wear; but I lay 
my trophies at your feet as a peace-offering, 
187 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Frances, and hope you’ll appreciate your honors. 
I’ll even let you stick them all about your room 
if you ’ll forgive me for breaking my engage- 
ment. Nine of them ! Think of that ! It is n’t 
every Freshman lass who can have such a show! 
Better take them.” 

Newton leaned back against the railing to 
mop his dripping forehead and beam upon 
Frances, who stood looking in dismay at the 
nine hats he had deposited at her feet. 

“ Do you expect me to put nine hats up in 
my room?” she demanded. 

“Sure! Great prize. Never made such a 
raid before. Thought I’d make a fine show up 
in my rooms, and then I thought of you. By 
Jove, I ’d forgotten all about my call till we 
turned down this way, and then I thought I ’d 
do the magnanimous and hand over the hats as 
a peace-offering. Will you have ’em?” 

“And rob you of the spoils of war? Never! 
Take your bonnets, for perhaps one of them 
may replace your own, which you seem to have 
188 


FRESHMAN YEAR 


mislaid. Bat unless you gather them up, I ’m 
afraid you will speedily part company with some 
of them, for I see several suspicious-looking 
characters lurking about the corner down there,” 
and she pointed to the next street. 

Newton whirled about, and, looking in the 
direction she was pointing, exclaimed: 

“ As I ’m a Soph! ” and, hastily gathering up 
his treasures, added : “ Let s get indoors. I ’ll 
take my load home when the coast is clear.” 

The weeks passed quickly, and Frances found 
each and every one well filled. Lecture followed 
lecture, and laboratory-work kept her busy. 
The first semester was promising well, and as it 
drew near its end she worked with increased 
energy. Shortly before the Christmas vacation 
Newton asked her to go with him to hear James 
Whitcomb Riley read, and although a Latin 
examination was pending, and she had some 
very solid work to do for it, Frances went with 
him, resolving to get up early the following 
morning and make up for lost time. Now, 

189 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Frances’ timepiece was neither new nor modern, 
having served for many a year, and passed 
through many vicissitudes. However, she had 
paid two dollars to have it put in “ perfect 
order” barely a week before, and consequently 
felt that it might be relied upon for a time, any- 
way. With thoughts of the lecture well min- 
gled with thoughts of the work to be done in 
the morning, Frances fell asleep and forgot 
everything until wakened by the ringing of the 
bell of the campus clock. 

190 


CHAPTER XV 


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 

“ NE, two, three ! Mercy,” cried Frances, 
I 9 “how nearly I ’ye overslept!” And, 
reaching beneath her pillow, she drew 
out the unreliable watch. Twenty-five minutes 
of five. 

“ That is odd,” she muttered, “ for I am sure 
that I counted three strokes. It must have 
struck one before I was wide-awake. This old 
watch is losing time again. What a bother it 
is, anyway! The first thing I shall do when 
I ’ve made my fortune will be to invest a por- 
tion of it in a watch that will keep correct time. 
Now, if I go to sleep again, I shall oversleep 
as sure as the world ; but — oh, dear, I don’t 
want to get up just one little bit! It does n’t 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


seem as if it could be morning when it is still as 
dark as a pocket, outdoors.” 

Nevertheless, she scrambled out, lighted her 
lamp, dressed and sat down to study. She was 
soon lost to everything else, and did not even 
hear the clock when it rang the next hour. 
Her watch lay before her, and when the hands 
pointed to twenty-five minutes of seven, she 
closed her books, gathered up her papers, and 
said aloud, in the habit which had grown upon 
her since she had been in Ann Arbor and lived 
so much alone: 

“ There! If I do not understand that now, 
I certainly never shall, for I ’ve worked two 
solid hours on it, and not a thing has inter- 
rupted me. I believe that I shall try getting 
up at this hour every morning, for half-past 
four is n't so very early, after all, and one feels 
so fresh after a good, long sleep. It ’s queer, 
though, that it does n’t grow light faster. There 
ought to be some sign of dawn at half-past six. 
How glad I shall be when the days begin to 

192 


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 


grow long again! Well, I ’ll run downstairs 
and get the potatoes sliced for breakfast, and 
open the dining-room windows. I have n’t 
heard a sound of anyone yet.” 

She stepped out into the dark, silent hall, 
made her way to the back stairs, and a moment 
later entered the deserted kitchen. Going to 
the storeroom, she took from it the pan of cold 
potatoes, and, settling herself by the table, began 
to cut them for creaming for breakfast, for she 
^ did all sorts of household duties in order to cur- 
tail expenses, hesitating at nothing which could 
help along her cause. 

The pile of sliced potatoes grew, and her task 
was about half completed when, reaching over 
to take another potato from the pan standing 
upon the table, the trimming upon her sleeve 
caught in the handle, and away spun pan, pota- 
toes and all. Down crashed the pan, the cold 
potatoes thudding and bumping across the kit- 
chen floor. Frances made a wild grab to save 
them, thereby letting the bowl she was holding 
193 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


in her lap follow the pan, and by its fall add to 
the racket. Scrambling to her feet, she was just 
rescuing the contents of her bowl from total 
destruction when she was struck speechless by : 
“ Hi, I say you vant to come oud of here ride 
avay queeck ! I vill vid mine gun you shoot! 
You come stlileein’ in mine house when somepody 
is sleeping, an’ you tinks they right avay don’t 
know notings aboot it! Ha, I haf! — ” And 
here the tirade ended, and in the doorway ap- 
peared a startling figure which might have 
struck terror to the most desperate burglar. 

“ Himmel, Fraulein Fern ! What for you 
come down to make the breakfast last night al- 
ready? ” 

A funnier figure it would have been difficult 
to imagine than Herr Schmidt arrayed in an 
astonishing bath-robe of bright red with a blue 
plaid pattern upon it, and with a nightcap cocked 
rakishly over one ear. In his hands he held a 
gun, which must have come with him straight 
from the Franco-Prussian war of 1870, and upon 

194 


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 


liis broad face indignation and surprise gave place 
to each other in rapid succession. 

By this time Frances had recovered her wits, 
and she began to laugh. 

“Iam so sorry I upset the pan and frightened 
you, Mr. Schmidt, but the handle caught in my 
sleeve. I thought I would play early bird and 
get my potatoes prepared before seven o’clock, 
so that I could help with other things. I wonder 
what makes the others so late ? ” 

“Lade! What you call lade? You think 
all the house going to make themselves cra-azy 
because you do ? What for you need come down 
at half-past four when not anybody else come 
till half-past seex ? ” 

“ Why, it is long past that now,” cried Fran- 
ces, but just then the campus bell began to ring. 
One, two, three, four, five, and with every stroke 
a nod from the rampant nightcap, and : “ Half- 
past seex! What you say? You hear that? 
Five o’clock ! Prut ! you study till you lose 
your senses ! ” and, stalking into the kitchen, 
i95 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Mr. Schmidt took from her hands the bowl 
which she still held, thumped it upon the table, 
and, with another wag of the cap, added : “ You 
haf ninety meenits for to get your senses. Go 
back to bed ! ” 

As the weeks passed by, Frances learned many 
things beside those taught in the university, and 
was storing up her knowledge for future use. 
During her Christmas vacation she had read and 
studied hard, getting well ahead of her work. 
She had not made many friends, feeling that 
social life would unfit her for the solid work 
she had resolved to do this year, for next year 
she was determined to bring her family to Ann 
Arbor and launch them upon their careers in 
earnest. At least she w r ould bring the younger 
ones, and her mother if she could possibly per- 
suade her to come. The two older boys were 
now employed, and she felt that it would per- 
haps do more harm than good to insist upon a 
change for them. The expense of such a step, 
the uncertainty of it when once taken, and 

196 





Doughnuts and Diplomas — 5 . 

“‘I VILL VID MINE GUN YOU SHOOT!’” 


See p . 194 . 




THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 


the tremendous responsibility devolving upon 
her she had thought of again and again. She 
was not much given to discussing her plans with 
outsiders, but had found in Newton a strong 
support in all her planning, and together they 
had discussed ways and means like two old wise- 
acres. Shortly before the close of the college 
year they had gone together to look at houses, 
and had found one which seemed to be exactly 
what she needed. The rent was a trifle more 
than Frances had expected to pay, but every- 
thing about it was so suited to her needs that 
she felt that she must try to secure it in the fall if 
only her mother’s consent to the change could 
be won. She could not, of course, make any 
definite arrangement until she knew what her 
mother would do, and when vacation came Fran- 
ces packed her trunk, and set out for Miton- 
ville for her first visit in over two years. The 
place had seemed small and cramped in every 
sense of the word before she left it, but now the 
little village seemed almost unbearable, and she 

jj — Doughnuts and Diplomas . 1 9 7 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


was more than ever resolved that her mother and 
the younger children should share the advan- 
tages which had been her own. 

The ups and downs of that summer have no 
place in this story, but the triumph has; and 
when August came it found Frances back in 
Ann Arbor, surrounded by her family, her cats, 
her household belongings and her bewilderment, 
for it had been no simple matter to transplant 
an entire family. 

“Here, where does this thing go?” demanded 
Newton, as he came staggering in, burdened 
with a great bundle of bedding. He had in- 
sisted upon coming back early in order to be on 
hand when Frances “ imported the crowd/’ as 
he put it. 

“Second-story, south room ! Take care where 
you step, or you ’ll trip over that trunk,” cried 
Frances, who stood at the foot of the stairs 
directing the men where to place the furniture, 
which had just come by freight, and managed 
to survive its long journey. Mrs. Fern was out 

198 


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 


in the kitchen, where she and the boys were 
unpacking crockery, and doing their best to find 
something with which to prepare the first meal. 

“ Hello, Edith ! Ship ahoy ! Where will 
you have this roll?” called Newton, as, reach- 
ing the top of the stairs, he dropped the roll 
upon the floor and promptly sat upon it. 

“ Oh, get up, quick !” cried Edith, “for I am 
sure that is the roll of bedding in which Frances 
packed the blue vase ! ” 

Newton bounded to his feet, and, grabbing 
the roll, rushed into the room Frances had 
mentioned. 

“ Shall we open it to see if I ’ve smashed any- 
thing?” he asked in a whisper. 

“ I don’t believe you have,” answered Edith, 
“for Frances said that she was going to roll it 
up in all those things so that it could be thrown 
from Mitonville to California without being 
broken.” 

“You ’ve saved my life!” said Newton, and 
fled downstairs. 


19 9 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


At last everything was carried in, and they 
all stood and looked at each other in despair at 
the confusion. 

“ It is n’t any use to groan over it now, for 
here we are, and here we must stay, if the world 
stops revolving in consequence,” said Mrs. Fern. 
“ The first thing to do is to have something to 
eat, for that will put us all in better shape for 
hard work, and, as near as I can make out, we 
are not going to have a dearth of that, whatever 
else runs short. Come along, children.” 

“ I ’m one of them,” cried Newton, slipping 
his arm through hers. “ So here I am right on 
deck.” 

“And first mate, as near as I can make out,” 
answered Mrs. Fern, as she looked up at the 
tall fellow “cake- walking ” beside her. 

“ Every house has to have a man around to 
help run things. Nell won’t let me boss around 
at home, because Fred is the grand Mogul there; 
but I helped rent this establishment, so I ’ve 
some claim upon it, yon understand.” 


200 


THE EARLY BIRD CATCHES A WORM 

“ I think I ’ll adopt you for my big son, to 
supply the place of the ones I’ve left behind 
me,” said Mrs. Fern, for this merry, light- 
hearted Junior had won her heart at once, and 
she was glad to welcome him. 

“ The feast is spread upon the stationary tubs, 
and the only knives to be found were the onion- 
knife and potato-knife. Forks will come later, 
as civilization advances. Meantime, fingers must 
serve. Part of the feast has journeyed from 
Mitonville, and may be the worse for the jour- 
ney; but the rest has been provided by Ann 
Arbor’s ‘chust one fine market,’ for Herr Schmidt 
vouches for it. Nevertheless, I call my Miton- 
ville roast fowl my 'piece de resistance, for if that 
bird could not journey to Ann Arbor alive, I 
was determined that she should do so dead, and 
behold her noble form,” cried Mrs. Fern, as she 
whisked off the towel from the little basket 
which stood upon the tubs, only to utter a cry 
of dismay when she discovered that it was 
empty, and that her prize fowl had vanished. 


201 



























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































CHAPTER XVI 


U POLLY WAS A HUMMER!” 

F OR one moment they stood staring at the 
empty basket in blank astonishment, for 
how their dinner could have vanished in 
that brief time was a puzzle. Then quick- 
witted Mrs. Fern cried : 

“ The cats ! ” 

“ Oh, no, mamma, they could n’t have done it,” 
cried Edith, eager to defend her pets. “ They 
are all in the big hamper, and they could n’t 
possibly get out. Come and see.” 

“ Don’t be too sure of what cats can or cannot 
do, my dear — particularly these cats. They are 
cats of culture and education. These cats have 
traveled and know the ways of the world. 
There ! Now, what do you think ? ” 

203 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


They had all crowded into the little outer 
storage-room where Edith had carefully placed 
the hamper, lest Tabby Blessumheart, Cynthia 
and Neb should suddenly be seized with a 
desire to return to Mitonville and take the first 
train back. There stood the hamper in which 
the cats had made their journey from Miton- 
ville, but the cord which tied one end of the lid 
was broken, and that end of it was raised just 
enough to have admitted of three sleek and 
lithe cats slipping through. 

“ Oh, my pussies ! ” cried Edith ; “ where can 
they have gone ? ” 

“Cast your eye out in this direction, and 
perhaps your question will be answered,” 
remarked Newton, as he leaned upon the window- 
sill and gazed calmly into the back garden. 

They all rushed to the window, and there 
beheld a sight which caused the boys to cry : 
“Oh, what thieves! Let’s go out and just 
thump ’em ! ” 

“ By no means. The feast was spread, those 


204 


“POLLY WAS A HUMMER! 


cats considered themselves members of the family, 
and came to partake thereof. They chose with 
discrimination, for they took the best thing on 
the — washtubs. Biddy Cackle has fulfilled her 
mission upon earth, as her bones testify, but 
had I supposed that I was roasting her for cats 
I should never have taken the time to put in 
that last bit of seasoning/’ and Mrs. Fern 
pointed to the backbone of the fowl which lay 
upon the grass, while seated just beyond it, all 
three industriously washing their faces, were 
the cats, filled to repletion. 

“ Come and have something from the ‘ cliust 
one fine market/ ” was all Mrs. Fern said, and 
all filed back to the kitchen. 

The boys were still protesting against the 
outrageous thievery — Edith was defending the 
cats, Newton was punctuating their discussion 
with terse remarks, Frances was sitting upon an 
upturned boiler, and Mrs. Fern was doling out 
comfort in the form of bread and butter to her 
hungry brood, when there came a hearty greeting: 

205 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Good-day, good-day. How are you ? Came 
over to see liow you were getting along,” and in 
the doorway stood a figure which caused the 
children to stare with their food half-way between 
their plates and their lips. 

He was fully six feet tall and large in pro- 
portion. His face was broad, with a pointed 
beard and heavy mustaches that nearly concealed 
the mouth ; the nose was prominent, and the eyes 
peered out from heavy brows. He was dressed 
in the most atrocious taste, but everything was 
of the best material, from the light drab Alpine 
hat, with its broad mourning band, the dark 
blue serge suit, tan-colored overcoat, black and 
red necktie, to the large, gold-lieaded cane. 

He did not remove his hat as he came into the 
kitchen, but, stalking over to where Mrs. Fern 
stood, held out his hand, and asked : 

“Are you Mrs. Fern? — this girl’s mother?” 
pointing with his cane toward Frances. “ Smart 
girl ! Takes after her ma, no doubt. Going 
to run a boarding-house and a college course, 

206 


“POLLY WAS A HUMMER! 


both at once. Big job on hand. Hope she ’ll 
succeed. I like grit. Need any help getting 
settled? I ’m the landlord, Mr. Woods. Used 
to live here myself in Polly’s time. Polly’s 
been dead nigh on to ten years, but I can’t sort 
of bring myself to put off my band. Polly 
was smart as chain-lightning. Got quite a 
family, ain’t you ? We, Polly and I, never had 
but one son, and he ’s running the mine now up 
yonder. He ’s all right, and so ’s his wife. 
Nothing to complain of there ! Well, if I can 
do anything for you, let me know. Send over, 
miss. Good-day.” 

With a comprehensive nod to all, the landlord 
turned upon his heel, and would have walked 
out as he had walked in, without giving one of 
them time to reply to a word he had spoken, or 
utter a word for themselves. 

But Nebuchadnezzar Blessumheart had not 
been reared as the man of his family simply to 
forage for it. He had greater missions on earth, 
and one of them was to create diversions for 


207 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


felines and mortals alike, so at this crisis lie set 
about this mission. Mrs. Fern had just managed 
to collect her wits enough to lay down the loaf of 
bread she had been cutting when their odd 
visitor appeared upon the scene, and to put out 
her hand toward him, intending to shake hands 
with him and thank him for his consideration, 
when, like a shot from a gun, there whizzed 
across the room a gray streak, which bounded 
upon the tubs, sprung from them to the floor, 
tore across it beneath the feet of the figure which 
stood in the middle of the kitchen, and vanished 
from sight through the open door. Edith, 
Morton and Nelson sprung up to rush after it, 
Morton shouting : 

“ It ’s Neb, and he ’s got a fit from eating all 
that chicken! I bet he got nearly all of it! 
He has run under the refrigerator ; she's jumped 
off the porch; it’s tumbled down the cellar- 
stairs ! Quick ! Quick ! Come on ! ” And he 
bounded over the porch railing to rush pell-mell 
after the cat. The others crowded out to the 
208 


POLLY WAS A HUMMER! 


porch, only their visitor retaining his presence 
of mind. Stalking along behind the others, he 
kept admonishing them. “ Don’t grow excited ! 
Don’t grow excited ! You waste your vitality! 
You deplete your vitality!” And with every 
warning the huge cane was twirled around his 
shoulder like an Indian club. 

By the time Morton had captured the cat and 
they had all returned to the kitchen their queer 
visitor had vanished, and then the funny side 
of the whole thing seemed to strike them, and 
peals of laughter came to brighten them all up 
and fit them for the work which lay before 
them. 

To get everything in running order, and her- 
self in a condition for her second year in college, 
was no small undertaking for Frances. Mrs. 
Fern was perfectly capable of running the 
household; but, from former experiences, Fran- 
ces dared not leave it wholly to her. Moreover, 
running a boarding-house for twenty-five or 
thirty students, many of whom were obliged to 

209 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


assist with the work as Frances had assisted at 
Mrs. Schmidt’s, was a very different matter from 
taking care of their little home in Mitonville ; 
and Frances felt that, under any circumstances, 
it would be entirely too much for her mother to 
attempt. A month had passed since their ar- 
rival, and the domestic machinery was beginning 
to run pretty smoothly. They had seventeen 
boarders and nine “ roomers.” The roomers 
cared for their own rooms, and were little 
trouble; but the boarders were omnipresent, as 
Frances soon learned to her sorrow. Several 
more were coming in the course of the following 
week, and each day increased her duties. As 
Mrs. Fern became accustomed to the new life, 
she enjoyed it to the full; for it opened an en- 
tirely new world to her, and held outside inter- 
ests such as she had never known in quiet 
Mitonville. 

Frances was up betimes each morning, and 
off to market, where she rarely failed to meet 
Herr Schmidt, ready with a smiling welcome 


210 


“POLLY WAS A HUMMER!” 


and sound advice. Want of capital obliged her to 
buy in small quantities, and one morning she had 
been “caught red-handed” by the frugal German, 
and was receiving the most wholesome lecture 
of her life regarding economy. He was walking 
home with her, holding forth most eloquently 
this lovely morning, and both were so absorbed 
in their thoughts that they did not notice a stout 
man following close upon their heels. Probably 
Herr Schmidt would not have noticed him, any- 
way ; for, once launched upon one of his themes — 
this time it was marketing, at which he was an 
expert — he talked so loudly and gesticulated so 
wildly that he neither saw nor heard anything 
save his own voice and his arms. Frances 
trotted along at his side, doing her best to keep 
up with him; for the faster he talked, the faster 
he walked. Her brain was working as fast as 
her feet were going; for she was trying to reason 
out how she should lay in the stock of provisions 
by the wholesale, as Herr Schmidt was charging 
her to do, if she would avoid bankruptcy, when 


2 1 I 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


lier bank-account was at such a low ebb that 
she was sometimes kept guessing at the outcome 
of her venture when all the other members of 
her family were in the land o’ dreams. 

“Yes, I should much prefer to do as you 
advise, and shall, after we are more firmly 
established,” she gasped as she almost ran 
along. 

“I, of course, understand that it is far the 
better way. But just at present — ” And 
Frances paused; for even though Herr Schmidt 
was a kind-hearted, well-meaning man, she did 
not care to confess that she was unable to do as 
he suggested. 

They had now reached a cross street, and, 
with wonderfully noiseless footfalls for one so 
huge as himself, the person who had followed 
them so closely turned into it, nodding and mut- 
tering to himself: 

“Cash giving out! Bad lookout for my rent. 
Of course, she ought to buy wholesale. Sheer 
nonsense to expect to run any other way ! Too 


“POLLY WAS A HUMMER!” 


young to try to do it. Can't be more than 
twenty. Wonder if her mother 's a smart wo- 
man? Looks so. Looks like Polly, too. Polly 
was a hummer." 

14— Doughnuts and Diplomas. 2 1 3 


CHAPTER XVII 


GETTING UP STEAM 

F ROM the very outset Frances had counted 
upon the first steps as being anything but 
easy; but it was fortunate for her that 
she was unable to look into the future, or her 
courage, great as it was, must have failed her. 
To get her family out to Ann Arbor had very 
nearly exhausted her little savings, and the small 
amount remaining was rapidly being eaten up 
by the many incidental expenses upon which 
she had not counted. The little at Mrs. Fern’s 
command was needed to clothe herself and the 
children, who had a most surprising way of put- 
ting shoes out of service, to say nothing of other 
articles of apparel. As soon as they were in 
215 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


thorough running order, Frances resumed her 
doughnut-making, and promptly had a flourish- 
ing patronage among the students. But in Ann 
Arbor she could not command Kenwood prices, 
and many more had to be made in order to 
equal the returns realized in Kenw r ood. Her 
usual time for making doughnuts was late in 
the evening, after the students had eaten their 
supper, finished their domestic duties and gone 
about their various affairs. Then Frances would 
spend two, and often three, hours in the deserted 
kitchen, baking away for dear life, and the fol- 
lowing morning her doughnuts would vanish 
like dew before the sun. 

As the three children were in school, very 
little help could be counted upon from them; 
so, shortly after they were settled and ready to 
begin business, Frances engaged a young Swedish 
girl to assist with the work, and promptly found 
that it would have been about as easy to do the 
work herself as it was to make Sophia under- 
stand what she wished done. 


216 


GETTING UP STEAM 


Sophia never by any possible chance ad- 
dressed her employers in the second person. 
She considered it more respectful to address 
them in the third, so far as she could address 
them at all. About every fourth word was Eng- 
lish, the others had originated partly in Sweden, 
partly in the course of her journey over the sea 
and partly in the course of her travels across 
the United States. Consequently she had a 
surprising vocabulary. 

But she was good-natured, willing to do any- 
thing she was asked to do, and so filled with 
contrition w T hen she did anything wrong that 
Frances and Mrs. Fern forgave “ seventy-times- 
seven,” and at last did the work themselves. 

“Is this all you need this morning, mother?” 
asked Frances, as she was about to start for 
market. 

“ Everything I can think of, I believe. Let 
me run over the list once more,” answered Mrs. 
Fern, as she looked over Frances’ shoulder. 

“Yes, that is all, I am sure, unless Sophia 
217 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


lias thought of something since last night. Can 
you think of anything else needed, Sophia ? v 

“ Yhat Meesers Furn saying?” asked Sophia, 
turning her rosy, smiling face toward them. 

Mrs. Fern held up the order book and an- 
swered : 

“ Miss Frances is going to market. You want 
something?” 

“ Oh-o-o, yees ; yees. Mees Furn get soom — 
soom — Oh — vait — ” and off she ran to the 
storeroom to come back with the box in which 
the white beans were kept. “ Some lee tie — zese 
tings; Yhat Mees Frances call?” 

“ Oh, beans ! Yes, I will get some.” 

“ Beens. Beens,” repeated Sophia slowly as 
she let them fall through her fingers. 

On her way to market Frances was overtaken 
by Newton, who joined her with his usual 
salute : “ Hello, Sophie ! How goes it ? ” 

“ Pretty fair, Junior,” was the reply, for these 
two had become firmer friends than ever during 
the past and present college year, and Frances 
218 


GETTING UP STEAM 


was much cheered by Newton’s gay good nature. 
Hardly a morning passed that he did not join 
her as she walked to market to chatter in his 
light-hearted way, and leave her at the market 
the brighter and happier for the brief meeting, 
for they saw very little of each other at other 
times, each being well occupied with college 
work. 

“ I say — is there any more room up at your 
house ? ” 

“That depends,” answered Frances with a 
laugh. “ The house has marvelous elastic pro- 
perties, as I ’ve discovered, and there is no 
telling what can be done at a pinch. Why do 
you ask ? ” 

“ Couple of the Alpha Gamas are out in the 
cold, cold world for want of room to accommo- 
date them, and I wondered if you could take 
them in ? ” 

Frances made an odd face as she looked up at 
the tall man beside her, but said nothing. 

“ Yes, I know what you mean, but these chaps 
219 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


seem 'all right. You might try them, anyway, 
and give them the throw-out if they get fresh. 
Do them good, maybe, to be fired out if they 
don’t behave. Shall I send them along ? ” 

“I mustn’t say no, for we ought to take 
in all we can get this year in any way, but 
some of those boys are awful, and that is the 
truth.” 

4 4 They are pretty tough at times, I ’ll admit, 
but I guess they will have sense enough to keep 
within bounds if they find themselves in a 
decent house.” 

“ When do they wish to come ? ” 

“ At noon to-day.” 

“ Well, I shall have to give up my room and 
roost where I can, I suppose, but it must be 
done.” 

Newton looked somewhat troubled as he 
asked : 

“Are funds running low and things getting 
close, Sophie ? ” 

“I could handle a larger bank account and 


220 


GETTING UP STEAM 


not feel the burden/’ answered Frances, with an 
odd smile. 

“ Look here, can’t I do something worth 
while?” 

“ You have done several things worth while 
already.” 

“ No, but I mean, can't I — well, oh, hang it, 
won’t you let me help you out if you get stuck 
for funds — go broke ? What ’s the use of 
being chums if we can’t call upon each other in 
a tight place? ” 

“ What do you call filling our house with 
boarders at the very outset ? If that is n’t 
pretty substantial help I ’d like to know what 
is; and you know that we could never have 
filled it so quickly if it had not been for you. 
I don’t mind taking your time and good will, 
but I won’t take your purse also,” said Frances 
very positively. “ I ’ll come out all right some- 
how, see if I don’t.” 

“ I never doubted that, but the question is, 


221 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


can you hold out through the racket?” he 
insisted. 

“ Don’t let ’s think of that part till we must. 
Good-by. Send along your Alphas, and I ’ll 
see if I can ‘ do for them.’ I wish, though, that 
I could be at home when they come, for I am 
conceited enough to believe that I overawe the 
unruly ones by the severity of my glance. But 
I have to coach a Fresliy at noon recess, and 
shall not reach home until the dinner hour is 
over. Then I must snatch a bite and fly back 
to lab. work.” 

“ Good-by. Good luck ! ” and they separated. 

“ Do you think that you can arrange to meet 
them and show them their places at the table?” 
asked Frances, when she had told her mother 
of the pending increase in their number. 

“ Yes, of course. It will take only a moment. 
What are their names?” 

“ Newton did n’t say. You will have to ask 
them. Tell them that the room will be ready 


222 


GETTING UP STEAM 


at five. I have n’t time to take my tilings off 
before lecture, for I must be off this minute.” 

Now, in this world things have a trick of 
going by contraries. When Mrs. Fern said that 
she would be at home and could take Frances’ 
place in the dining-room, she fully intended to 
be there; for she, as well as Frances, realized 
that one or the other of them should be present 
to see that all went well. As a rule Frances 
returned from her lecture in ample time to be 
present at the dinner-table. It was always 
punctually laid at twelve-thirty, the students 
taking turns in waiting, while Mrs. Fern looked 
to the serving in the kitchen, and Frances did 
her share in the dining-room. 

But “ the best laid plans o’ mice,” etc. And 
hardly had Frances disappeared around the cor- 
ner than the beginning of difficulties began . 

From nine to twelve the house was usually 
deserted, and Mrs. Fern had plenty of time, 
after the general clearing-up was done, to sew, 
223 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


attend some lecture, or rest until it was time to 
begin preparations for dinner. 

It was about ten o’clock when she sat down 
to read the morning paper. She had read, per- 
haps, ten minutes when she uttered an exclama- 
tion and sat straight up in her chair, her face a 
study. 

“ Louise Bedell Fowler dead! Living right 
here in Ann Arbor, and I never knew it! It 
can’t be possible , and yet it must be; for the 
name is the same, and the age, too. And the 
funeral will be held at eleven o’clock this morn- 
ing. Oh, I must go. I should never forgive 
myself if I slighted her memory iri this way, 
and the family would feel dreadfully if they 
learned of it. I can get everything ready before 
I start, and Sophia can surely do the rest — she 
is learning so rapidly. I shall be back by one, 
and Frances — There! she said that she would 
not be in until one, either. But she would feel 
the same about this as I do; so I ’ll just leave a 
little note pinned on Miss Power’s pin-cushion, 
224 


GETTING UP STEAM 


asking her to ask the new men their names and 
introduce them to the others, and sort of look 
after things generally. She will do it, I know, 
she is so good-natured.” 

And here Mrs. Fern’s soliloquy ended, and a 
moment later she was down in the kitchen 
giving orders to the bewildered Sophia, for So- 
phia was in the habit of receiving her orders in 
liomoepathic doses, and to have a dozen or more 
rattled off in a breath by a very excited mistress 
scattered completely what little knowledge of 
English she possessed, to say nothing of her 
wits. Then a note was written and pinned upon 
Miss Power’s cushion, and before a half hour 
had passed Mrs. Fern was being whirled along 
in a trolley car to the remote suburb in which 
the home of her old schoolmate, Louise Bedell 
Fowler, was situated. All had been done in 
such a whirl that she had not given herself time 
to think of details, and when she opened her 
purse to pay her carfare, she was somewhat 
startled to find that she had started upon a long 
225 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


trolley-ride into an entirely unknown suburb 
with exactly seventy cents. But Mrs. Fern had 
a profound faith in her own good luck; so, 
making the best of the situation, she clasped the 
purse firmly and went her way. 

226 


CHAPTER XVIII 


ONE DAY’S DOINGS 

C LANG! clang! rang the dinner-bell when 
twelve-thirty was struck by the Campus 
clock, and into the dining-room filed 
eighteen or twenty hungry men and maidens. 
Most of them took their seats at once, but four 
were always on duty for serving the meals, 
taking their turns from meal to meal. Collec- 
tively they were a pleasant gathering of young 
people, ready to do their share if they were 
unable to pay full rates, and doing it cheerfully 
and well. Some were able to pay well, and did 
not, of course, perform any of the domestic 
duties. 

Miss Power was a maiden lady of numerous 
summers, who had come to Ann Arbor for a 
227 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


special course. She had taught in an Eastern 
city for a number of years, but, finding herself 
a little behind the times, took herself and her 
peculiarities out to a Western University for a 
little rousing up to newer methods and newer 
ideas in general. 

She was a prim body, and usually moved 
with her hands clasped sedately at her belt, her 
head tilted a little forw r ard, and turned slightly 
to the right — a trick she had acquired from 
being just a trifle hard of hearing, or, as she 
expressed it, “ Not always hearing correctly.” 
She was thin and spare, and certainly not “ the 
average” height, as she was much given to 
stating when stature was being discussed. But 
her expression of countenance was the most 
peculiar of her many peculiarities, for it led one 
to believe that she was constantly in the neigh- 
borhood of an offensive odor. 

It was upon this “ balance-wheel of the 
establishment,” as Mrs. Fern called her, that 
the duty of presiding at the long table, filled 
228 


ONE DAY’S DOINGS 


with “ all sorts and conditions ” of men and 
maidens, devolved. 

As she stood at the door waiting the arrival of 
the new boarders, having found Mrs. Fern’s 
note upon her return from lecture, she felt 
quite honored at the responsibility reposed 
upon her. All the “ school ma’am ” in her 
arose to meet the occasion, and with hands 
clasped, as usual, she swept the long table with 
her keen eyes to see if by any chance the two 
men had managed to slip in unobserved. Nearly 
all of the others were seated when she saw them 
come hurrying into the hall. One was very 
tall, dark and thin, with keen black eyes and black 
wiry hair ; the other was short, stout and florid. 
A greater contrast it would have been hard to 
imagine. The tall one gave one quick, comprehen- 
sive glance down the hall and through the 
open door into the dining-room as he came 
toward Miss Power. “ Miss Fern, I presume? ” 
he said. 

“ No ; I am only ofBeiating in Miss Fern’s 

if — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 220 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


absence. Mrs. Fern also is absent. May I ask 
your names, sirs ? ” 

“ My own is Yon Mater, and my friend’s is 
Runyon.” 

“ Be good enough to follow me, and I will 
show you to your seats and present you to your 
table companions. ,, 

She minced along through the dining-room, 
with the tall man stalking behind and the short 
one bobbing after him. “ These will be your 
seats, young sirs. Young ladies and gentlemen, 
allow me to make you acquainted with your 
new fellow-students, Mr. Tomato and Mr. Onion.’’ 

Up to that moment there had not been the 
slightest indication of anything out of the 
ordinary in the arrival of new students, and in 
seating them at their places. Such things were 
of almost daily occurrence, and either Mrs. Fern 
or Frances usually introduced them to their near 
neighbors and then left them to become better 
acquainted. 

But now both Frances and her mother were 

230 


ONE DAY’S DOINGS 


absent, and “ officiating ” in their stead was the 
one member of the household who had, to say 
the least, been considered by the other members 
as most “ odd,” and her actions had been more 
or less freely commented upon by them. Now, 
it does not take long for twenty or more young 
men and girls to awake to the funny side of a 
situation, and the first to discover it will 
promptly open the eyes or ears of his neighbor, 
and, like an electric shock, it will almost instantly 
permeate all the others. When Miss Power 
mentioned the names of the new men all eyes 
were instantly bent upon them, and some lips 
quivered. The men themselves looked first 
surprised, then amused. Turning to his short 
friend, the tall man made a remark under his 
breath as he took his seat, which instantly pro- 
duced an explosion of laughter from him. 

Miss Power meanwhile had returned to the 
head of the table and had taken her seat, 
brindling with importance. It is surprising 
how much good, or ill, may result from a trifle, 
231 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


or how first impressions can influence future ac- 
tions. Mr. Yon Mater and Mr. Bunyon, 
straight from the other side of the globe, for 
their homes were in Cape Town, had come to 
this “land of the free and home of the brave” 
with many and conflicting ideas regarding it. 
That it could do many things which their 
mother country did not, or could not, do, they 
felt pretty certain, and that it was “ a wild sort 
of Indian country ” they were equally certain. 
So they had resolved to be cowboys in the 
middle of Broadway, New York city, if they felt 
so disposed, and what might they not feel at 
liberty to do in the wild West? 

Newton had very little to do with the Alpha 
Gama men, so knew nothing of these men per- 
sonally. However, he took the precaution of 
giving a hint to the man who had asked him if 
these friends could find a room at Mrs. Fern’s 
that it was a house in which the students 
were expected to conduct themselves with deco- 
rum, and that they would find their stay a short 

232 


ONE DAY’S DOINGS 


one if they failed to do so. This had been duly 
repeated to Mr. Yon Mater and Mr. Bunyon, 
who had come prepared to abide by the edict. 

But at the very outset they had been met with 
a huge joke, and whether it was intentional or 
accidental they did not stop to consider. It was 
a loophole for greater liberties, and they at once 
proceeded to take them. 

The two men and the two girls whose turn 
it was to wait upon the others were hurrying to 
and from the kitchen, bringing or removing 
the soup plates. Conversation was under full 
headway, and growing each moment more mirth- 
ful, for Miss Power’s introduction had been fully 
understood, and the students were not slow to 
take advantage of it, or of her prim way of 
doing the honors. She was now deep in some 
discussion with her table companion, and quite 
unaware of the increasing hilarity at the other 
end of the room. 

The girl who was waiting upon the new- 
comers was a shy, pretty little thing from a farm 
233 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


in Kansas, and had not yet become thoroughly 
accustomed to being a stranger in a strange 
land. 

“ Will you take soup?” she asked, pausing at 
Mr. Yon Mater’s chair. 

“ That depends on the sort. What do you 
serve in this hostelry?” And he looked up at 
the girl with a bold, impertinent stare. 

“We have tomato soup to-day,” she answered, 
coloring; for she had overheard the absurd intro- 
duction. 

“And I’ve got the ticket for it! Fetch it 
along. And, I say, haven’t you another glass? 
I don’t like the pattern on this one, and he 
caught up the glass of water in front of him, 
adroitly hit his friend’s elbow with his own, and 
spilt about half the water upon the snowy table- 
cloth. 

The girl did not wait for further remarks, but 
hurried away to the kitchen, and when the soup 
came it was carried by one of the men, who 
placed it before the new guest in a very firm 
234 


ONE DAY’S DOINGS 


and decided manner. But neither lie nor his 
friend was to be balked in the high time they 
had promised themselves. 

Dinner was well under way, and the two had 
kept up a running conversation, commenting 
freely upon American people, American institu- 
tions, and American girls in particular. Once 
in a while they would address a remark to Miss 
Power, but invariably in such a manner as to 
cause a laugh at her expense, although she was 
blissfully unaware of it, and smiled upon them 
most graciously. 

Just as their plates were about to be removed 
for dessert, Mr. Bunyon turned to his friend 
and remarked: 

“Beastly butter! Wonder if they have got 
any better. This is only fit for serving to 
tramps at the back door. It ought to be sent 
to the wall.” And without more ado he caught 
up the butter-ball upon his knife-blade, gave a 
fillip to it, and shot the butter-ball from the 
blade as though it had been thrown from a cata- 
pult. It flew to the ceiling and stuck there. 

235 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Tlien it lias been properly served and dis- 
posed of by one,” said a calm voice just behind 
him, and, turning quickly, the two men found 
themselves looking into a pair of flashing black 
eyes, which shot at them glances which were 
positively withering in their scorn. “I am Miss 
Fern,” continued the dignified voice, “and I 
presume you are the young gen — men from — 
the land of the Boers? I recognize the fact.” 

Without another word Frances took her place 
at the opposite end of the table. 

“ Did mother say where she was going, Miss 
Power?” Frances asked presently, when she 
had exchanged greetings with the others present. 

“No, Miss Fern, she merely said that she 
had been hastily called away, but expected to 
return by one o’clock at the latest.” 

The dinner proceeded, and a moment later 
the new guests took their departure, but not 
without first bowing courteously to their hostess, 
who returned their bow with dignity. 

Meantime what had become of Mrs. Fern, 
and how was she faring? 

236 


CHAPTER XIX 
someone’s else doings 

W HILE Frances was expending her vital 
force upon “ her savages/’ as she had 
promptly christened her African 
guests, in order to bring them to a realizing 
sense of the fitness of things, and at the same 
time was doing her best to reason out where her 
mother could have gone, and what was detain- 
ing her, Mrs. Fern was having experiences of 
her own. 

The suburb to which she was journeying 
proved to be much further from Ann Arbor 
than she had supposed it to be, and fully fifteen 
miles lay between her and her home when she 
stepped from the trolley-car, with just a shade 
237 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


of unrest in her mind and a fifty-cent piece in 
her purse. 

After leaving the car she was obliged to cross 
a bridge and walk nearly a half mile to the 
residence of which she was in quest. She 
reached it at length, and entered with many 
others; for it was a large, pretentious dwelling, 
and a great number of people had come to the 
funeral. Making her way to the drawing-room 
where the funeral services were about to be 
held, she took a seat not far from the casket. 

Louise Bedell and Alice Farwell had been 
schoolgirls together in Mitonville for years, but 
had met but once since their marriage, one to 
Henry Fern, and the other to Charles Fow- 
ler. They had corresponded for a long time 
after they had separated ; but for several years 
even the correspondence had lapsed, and Mrs. 
Fern had not heard from her old friend in more 
than two years. With her usual want of method 
she had mislaid the letter containing the new 
address given in it; and excepting to remember 
238 


SOMEONE’S ELSE DOINGS 


tli at Louise Fowler was now living somewhere 
in the West, she had no idea whatever of her 
whereabouts. But the notice in the morning 
paper had been quite enough for Mrs. Fern: 
Louise Bedell Fowler was dead. Moreover, the 
funeral was to be held in a suburb of her own 
town. That this world might possibly contain two 
Louise Bedell Fowlers she never for one second 
paused to consider, and now sat among the other 
sorrowing friends shedding tears of genuine 
sympathy for the bereaved family, and herself 
deeply distressed. 

The services at length ended, and the friends 
were asked to file past the casket. That she had 
not seen any of the family Mrs. Fern did not 
consider at all remarkable, nor was she surprised 
that she had entirely failed to recognize any one 
of those present. Mentally resolving to make 
her way upstairs as soon as she had taken a last 
look at her old friend, she rose from her chair, 
wiped the tears from her eyes — for the minister’s 
words had been very touching, and Mrs. Fern 
2 39 


DOUGHNUTS A NJD DIPLOMAS 


had wondered how a man who could have known 
Louise so short a time as this one had could 
speak so feelingly and appropriately of her early 
life — and followed the others. Now, the Louise 
Bedell Fowler Mrs. Fern knew had been a mite 
of a woman, daintily proportioned, fair as a lily, 
with a mass of hair like spun gold. 

Mrs. Fern reached the casket, wondering at 
its enormous size, took one look at the figure 
within it, and nearly fell in a faint; for this 
figure’s proportions were almost colossal. A 
woman of perhaps sixty-five lay before her, one 
who in life must have weighed some two hundred 
pounds. She was as dark as a Spaniard, with 
black, straight hair drawn smoothly back from 
the low forehead. A greater contrast to Mrs. 
Fern’s girlhood friend it would have been im- 
possible to imagine. Mrs. Fern was never able 
to tell how she at last found herself out in the 
road and hurrying toward the trolley terminus. 
In fact, she had but a very hazy idea of anything 
until she reached the bridge, and she was then 


240 


SOMEONE’S ELSE DOINGS 


brought to a realizing sense of her surroundings 
by hearing the bell ring for the ear to start. 

With a wild idea that she must have her 
change ready before she could get upon the car, 
she hastily opened her purse, fumbled for the 
fifty cent piece it contained, started to run for 
the trolley, let the piece fall from her fingers, 
saw it roll across the planks of the bridge 
and vanish between them, reflecting a silvery 
streak as it disappeared into the river under- 
neath. 

“ Hurry up ! Hurry up ! ” shouted the 
conductor. 

“ Oh, I can’t ; I can’t ! ” wailed Mrs. Fern. 

Time ’s up ! Can’t wait ! ” and off went the 
car, to leave her standing bewildered and penni- 
less in the middle of the bridge, miles from 
home and seeing no possible way of getting 
there. It would be another hour before a car 
would start, and how she was to take it without 
one cent to pay the twenty required for the fare 
was a question Mrs. Fern could not answer. 


241 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


A man, evidently the bridge- watchman, came 
up to her to ask : 

“ What ’s the matter, ma’am? What kin I 
be doin’ for ye?” 

“ I don’t see that you can do anything for 
me,” answered Mrs. Fern. “I was going to 
take that car, and the last penny in my purse is 
at the bottom of the river.” 

“ Glory be ! An’ how iver did ye do that 
same?” 

“ It slipped through my fingers when I was 
getting out my fare.” 

“ Gettin’ yer fare, is it, an’ ye not on the car 
at all?” 

The man looked at her sharply as though he 
questioned her sanity. And she certainly did 
present a rather startling appearance, for she 
had wept copiously at “ Louise Bedell Fowler’s ” 
funeral, and her hurried exit and run for the 
car had not added to the anything but imma- 
culate condition of her attire. What the man 
thought he was considerate enough not to say. 

242 


SOMEONE’S ELSE DOINGS 


Giving an odd sort of snort, he pulled liis 
hat down upon his eyes, and went about his 
duties on the bridge. But by this time Mrs. 
Fern had reached the depths of despair, and, 
walking to the seat provided for waiting 
passengers at the end of the trolley line, sat down 
and tried to collect her scattered wits. Whether 
she would have succeeded or not it is hard to 
tell, but she was spared the effort by : 

“ Fine day ! Longmead ’s a pretty place. 
Own quite some property out this way. Come 
out once a month to collect rents. Never let 
others do what I can do myself. Enjoyed the 
trolley-ride? Going back by next car? Go 
with you if you don’t object. But you look sort 
of all broke-up ! What ’s happened? Shouldn’t 
fret. It saps your vitality,” and glancing up 
she found herself confronted by their landlord. 

“How under the sun did you happen here 
at this moment, when there was n’t a soul in 
sight a second ago?” Mrs. Fern demanded, too 
astonished to remember to pronounce a greeting. 


243 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


The hint of a smile flittered about the corners 
of Mr. Wood’s mouth for a second, but vanished 
almost instantly as lie answered: 

“ Business out this way. Came up that path 
from the river,” pointing to a little footpath 
which wound its way beside the stream. 

“ ’Most time for the next car,” drawing out a 
monstrous gold watch. “ Good dinner ’ll brace 
you up. Hungry?” 

To his boundless amazement, Mrs. Fern raised 
her head and broke into uncontrollable laughter, 
and laughed until the tears again flowed. Mr. 
Wood fidgeted, peered at her from under his 
shaggy eyebrows, changed his cane from one 
hand to the other, and looked still more be- 
wildered, for to meet in the midst of the high- 
ways a lone female with traces of the deepest 
woe upon her countenance, to be filled with the 
sincerest sympathy for one who so closely re- 
sembled his lost “ hummer,” Polly, to set about 
offering consolation in the only way he knew, 
only to see the disconsolate one break into a gale 
244 


SOMEONE’S ELSE DOINGS 


of laughter in liis very face, was, to say the least, 
disconcerting. 

“ I can’t help it, and I do beg your pardon, 
but if you knew all about it you would see the 
funny side, too. Yes, I am half-starved, and, 
what is worse, I ’m fifteen miles from home, 
and the last cent I had is at the bottom of the 
river. I ’ve been to the funeral of one of my 
oldest friends and nearly wept my eyes out, to 
discover after it was all over that I had never 
laid eyes upon the woman before in my life, 
and had chased way out here on a fool’s errand. 
If you had n’t happened along, I suppose I 
should have had to sit here until Frances sent 
out the town-crier to find me. But, thank my 
lucky stars, here you are. Now, take me home, 
please, and I ’ll pay my debts when I get 
there.” Up jumped Mrs. Fern just as the 
trolley rounded the curve and came tearing 
toward them. 

“By the Lord Harry, I will; come on,” and 
Samuel Broadhead Wood looped his arm, offered 

/6 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 2 4 C 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


it to the small woman beside him, rushed her 
across the platform and into the trolley almost 
before it had stopped. 

Meanwhile Frances was growing more and 
more anxious, for it was nearly four o’clock and 
no sign of her mother. 

Frances had just put on her things to go out 
in search of her, and was stepping from the 
piazza when she was struck speechless by the 
sight of her mother coming along under full 
sail, piloted by Mr. Wood. The rate at which 
he was rushing her along caused her to fairly 
run at his side, and, spying Frances, he called : 

“She’s all right! Don’t worry. It wastes 
one’s vitality. I found her out yonder,” waving 
his cane in the direction of the North Pole, 
“and I fetched her along home. Fine day. 
Fine trolley-ride. Great woman ! Won’t get 
lost again very soon, I reckon. Good-bye.” 
And, whirling around, off he started, Mrs. Fern 
calling to him : 

“Oh, wait a moment; please, do. I must hand 
246 


SOMEONE’S ELSE DOINGS 


you my car-fare, which you so kindly paid 
for me.” 

The retreating figure paused, turned sharply 
about, stared at her a second, and then an- 
swered : 

“ I ’d give double to do it all over. Don’t 
get such a treat for twenty cents every day. 
Give it to the boys, and go get your dinner.” 

Mrs. Fern followed Frances into the house, 
and explanations followed ; but before much 
more could be said the new men arrived to take 
possession of their room, and Frances also had 
to explain. 

She had spent the afternoon in removing her 
things from her room and getting it in readiness 
for them, and had not done so with an altogether 
good grace, having many misgivings as to what 
might be expected from such inmates. How- 
ever, she felt that she had made some impression 
at dinner, and hoped that the impression would 
be lasting. 

But she was still to learn that this day, 

247 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


though happily such were not of frequent occur- 
rence, was to be truly a red-letter one upon her 
calendar, and that she had taken into her house 
two examples of University students, such as 5 
had she harbored many like them, would speeds 
ily have brought upon her ruin and despair. 

248 


CHAPTER XX 

“then came still evening on” 

S UPPER was ended, and Frances was seated 
in her mother’s room listening to an 
account of her day’s experiences and 
darning Edith’s stockings. It was a room just 
off the dining-room, and as she sat there came 
to her ears the voices of the students whose 
turns it was to clear the table that evening and 
wash the dishes. They were rushing to and 
fro, chattering, laughing and singing a jingle 
which Mrs. Fern had scribbled off for them one 
evening, and which they had set to the tune of 
“Annie Laurie.” Some of them had wonder- 
fully melodious voices, and the song was given 
with spirit:” 


249 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Ann Arbor homes are lively 
When comes the hour to dine, 

And ’t is then that every Kappa 
Is bound to fall in line ; 

Is bound to fall in line 
To every duty true ; 

Oh, ’t is nice to be a Kappa, 

An Alpha Kappa Mu. 

“ Oh, the kitchens are so cosy 

With their kettles, pots and pans, 
And the maidens’ cheeks so rosy 
There seems a need of fans. 

There seems a need of fans. 

For oh, ’t is sadly true, 

It is warm to be a Kappa, 

An Alpha Kappa Mu. 

“ There are piles of dinner dishes, 

All waiting to be washed, 

And rows and rows of glasses 
Just ready to be smashed. 

For oh, ’t is very true, 

One can do a bit of smashing 
If he ’s a Kappa Mu. 

“ Oh, there ’s lots of soap and water, 
Though but little elbow-room, 

And there ’s much of mirthful chatter, 
For the Mu’s are bound to boom ! 


250 


“THEN CAME STILL EVENING ON” 

The Mu’s are bound to boom ! 

And soon they ’ll say to you: 

‘ Don’t you want to be a Kappa, 

An Alpha Kappa Mu ? ’ 

“H ” 

The song came ringing through the rooms, and 
Mrs. Fern laughed as she said : 

“ That song seems to have made a hit, any- 
way” 

“Perhaps you could make another if you 
would only try,” replied Frances. “ You 
certainly have material enough in this part of 
the world.” 

Mrs. Fern replied by a low laugh, and an 
odd expression passed over her face. Frances 
was quick to note it, but asked no questions. 

“ There, those are done,” Frances announced 
presently as she rolled up the last pair of stock- 
ings, “ and now I must try to write a letter before 
I begin my doughnuts. But where are Morton and 
Nelson? They must not forget to bring that cot 
down from the attic, or I shall not have a bed to 
sleep on to-night.” 


251 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ They have gone downtown after some coffee. 
Sophia forgot to order it this morning,” answered 
Edith, who sat by the table doing her lessons. 

“ Well, if I am not here when they come in, 
mother, will you please see that they bring down 
the cot ? Tell them to put it in the sitting-room, 
and I will make it up after I have finished my 
doughnuts. And, by-tlie-way, what am I to 
make it up with ? I had to leave my blankets 
on Mr. “ Tomato's ” bed, and there is n’t another 
one available in the house.” 

“ Take my big shawl and this old afghan for 
to-night, and when you go to market in the 
morning stop at Downing’s and ask them to 
send up a pair of blankets. We must have 
them, so we might as well get them at once,” 
answered Mrs. Fern. 

Frances took out her writing-tablet, and was 
soon deep in her letter-writing. She had nearly 
finished it when she was startled by a crash 
overhead in the room she had given up to the 
new men. Springing to her feet, she rushed to 
252 


“THEN CAME STILL EVENING ON” 


tlie door, and then upstairs, followed by her 
mother and Edith, for it seemed as though the 
roof must have fallen. 

At the head of the stairs she was met by two 
or three of the other men, who had rushed from 
their rooms at the sound. Frances went quickly 
to the door, and, knocking upon it, asked what 
had happened. 

“Oh, just a little accident,” was the reply, 
accompanied by a suppressed laugh, which did 
not add to her peace of mind. 

“ May I come in to see if there is anything 
that I can do ? ” she continued, and just then a 
small stream of water came trickling through 
the crack under the door. 

“ I don’t think we need any help,” was the 
smothered answer. 

“ You will greatly oblige me by opening the 
door,” said Frances in a tone which left no room 
for argument, and Mr. Runyon unlocked it and 
threw it open. Standing in the middle of the 
room in his shirt sleeves was Mr. Yon Mater, 
2 53 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


one hand grasping an Indian club which must 
have weighed five pounds at least. Its mate lay 
upon the floor in front of the dressing-table, 
Frances one special and particular pride, as it 
had been purchased while she was in Kenwood, 
and was a very pretty piece of furniture. 

The large bevelled glass was shattered into a 
thousand pieces, and the fragments scattered from 
one end of the room to the other. Close by it 
stood the washstand, and evidently the club 
which had wrought such liovoc with the mirror 
had included that also in its sweep, for the 
pitcher was smashed to atoms, the water delug- 
ing everything, and forming a merrily flowing 
river, which bid fair to become a cascade down 
the stairs unless promptly checked. 

Frances made one dive across the room, 
caught up the towels and began to sop for dear 
life, struck her hand upon some of the broken 
glass and received an ugly cut. Those who had 
come to her assistance did what they could, and 
presently order in a degree was restored. 

254 


“THEN CAME STILL EVENING ON 


“ Thanks, awfully. No great harm done, after 
all. Be good enough to send up another pitcher, 
will you, and we ’d like another mirror also, if 
possible. Confoundedly awkward to dress with- 
out one. Club exercise is a great thing. Can’t 
get along without the practice,” remarked one of 
the boarders. 

“ I should be very glad to provide another 
mirror for you were there one in the house, but 
as a rule we do not keep a very large supply on 
hand for emergencies like the present. In fact, 
we rarely feel the need for doing so. The pitcher 
can be replaced, I presume, but I shall have to 
ask you to use a bucket to-night, as even pitchers 
are not provided by the quantity,” and, binding 
up her bleeding hand in one of the wet towels, 
Frances made her way downstairs, too angry to 
trust herself to say one word to the others, whose 
indignation also had reached the limit. 

Her letter was not completed that night. 

She was just about to go to the kitchen when 
there came a tap upon her door, and, in answer 
2 55 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to her “Come,” Miss Power’s face appeared. 
She wore her hat and jacket, and had evidently 
just come in. 

“Oh, Miss Fern, may I ask a little favor of 
you ? I have just come from the Library, and 
while there I met an old friend,” and here Miss 
Power brindled and simpered like any school- 
girl. “He has asked if he may call at half- 
past eight, and I am going to beg that we need 
not be disturbed, as we wish to visit.” 

“I see no reason why you should be dis- 
turbed,” answered Frances, devoutly hoping that 
this old friend would take himself off before 
she was ready to begin her studying for the fol- 
lowing day, for the sitting-room was now her 
only corner of that big house, and, although she 
did not expect to sit down before nine-thirty or 
ten, she had some misgivings regarding the 
gentleman’s departure. 

“ I thought possibly the children might wish 
to come in to read, and thought it wiser to ask 
you,” added Miss Power. 

256 


“THEN^CAME STILL EVENING ON”J 

“The children always read in mother’s room, 
in order that she may help them. Besides, they 
are nearly always in bed at nine.” 

“Oh, then we can have an uninterrupted even- 
ing,” and off she minced. 

Ten was striking when Frances, worn and 
weary, came into the dining-room and paused 
to listen for voices in the sitting-room before 
venturing to enter. Fearing that her mother 
and Edith would be asleep, she refrained from 
going to their room, and crept out into the hall 
to see if the boys had brought down the cot and 
placed it where she could carry it into the sitting- 
room. But no cot was to be seen, and, inwardly 
wondering if they had carried it into the room 
before Miss Power’s friend had arrived, she sat 
down in the deserted dining-room to await that 
gentleman’s departure, for the murmur of voices 
had told her that the “ visit” was still in session. 
It was nearly half-past ten when he at last bowed 
himself out, and Miss Power tripped away to 
her downy couch, leaving Frances to go into 
257 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the sitting-room to arrange her own. But, lo, 
and behold ! no cot had been brought down. 
There was nothing for it but to go up to the 
garret and lug it down as best she could, for 
everyone else was in bed. So poor, tired Fran- 
ces clambered to the attic, got the cot from its 
dusty corner and carried it downstairs, where 
she made it up as best she could with such 
coverings as came to her hand, for Mrs. Fern, 
in the excitement of the Indian club episode, 
had entirely forgotten to tell the boys about the 
cot, or to put the shawl and afghan where Frances 
could get them. As to wakening her mother 
by going into her room for them, this unselfish 
girl would not think of such a thing. 

At last the cot was prepared, and then Fran- 
ces sat down for two hours’ study, about as un- 
fitted for it as she well could be, after a day of 
such excitement and physical strain. One 
o’clock was striking on the Campus clock when 
she laid her weary body upon the comfortless 
little cot and tried to bring her galloping brain 
down to something like repose. 

258 


CHAPTER XXI 


NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 

I T was fortunate for Frances that the forego- 
ing day was hardly a fair example of each 
day. It was the extreme. Although the 
others which had gone before, and many which 
followed, were filled with trials, hard work and 
anxiety, few brought to her such a sustained 
tax upon her patience, her financial resources 
and her physical strength. 

Many happenings were so funny that, even 
though extremely trying, annoyance was swal- 
lowed up in the laugh which they provoked. 
Frances went, as usual, to market before break- 
fast the following morning, and when she came 
in found breakfast well under way. She entered 
the dining-room and greeted those assembled at 
259 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the table, feeling wonderfully bright and cheery 
after her walk in the crisp November air ; for 
with the sunlight new hope had come, and she 
felt ready to undertake almost anything. She 
usually left the preparation of breakfast to her 
mother and Sophia; for she felt it more impor- 
tant that she should go early to market, and be 
free to leave for her lectures immediately after 
breakfast. 

Removing her hat and jacket, she took her 
place at the table, and was promptly served by 
one of the law students, who was combining 
domestic with political economy in his Univer- 
sity course. 

“Got up a fine appetite, I hope. Buckwheats 
are A 1. Just the ticket, with coffee, for a 
frosty morning,” he said, as he placed a plate 
of cakes before her, and set a cup of steaming 
coffee beside them. 

“I ’m as hungry as a bear,” answered Frances, 
as she poured the cream into her coffee, put in 
the sugar and stirred it. 

260 



Doughnuts and Diplomas — 6. 

“ ‘ BE GOOD ENOUGH TO SEND UP ANOTHER PITCHER.’ ” 

See p. 255. 































































NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 


Then she began to sniff as though she detected 
an unusual odor. Several of the others watched 
her, but did not say a word. Then she took up 
the cup and drank a deep swallow of the coffee. 

“ Mercy, what is the matter with it?” she 
cried, swallowing quickly and replacing the cup 
in the saucer. Then a shout arose from the 
table, and one girl cried : 

“That is what we have all been wondering; 
but we were determined not to say a word until 
you should come in and sample it. Is n’t it 
just awful?” 

“ It is the worst stuff I ever tasted,” cried 
Frances, rising from the table. “ Don’t drink 
another drop until I find out what ails it.” 
And away she went to the kitchen. 

“Mother, have you taken any of this coffee?” 
she demanded as she entered. 

“ Not a drop ! Too busy to tipple,” was the 
laughing answer. 

“ Then for mercy sake taste it right off. It s 
simply awful.” 

77 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 2 6 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Why, what is the — ” But, before she 
could finish, Sophia came toward them from the 
range, where she stood baking the buckwheat 
cakes. 

“ What Mees Fern saying? Coffee — coffee 
taste not good?” 

“ No, very bad,” answered Frances. 

“ Sophia vere sorry ! So vere sorry ! Master 
Morton he tell Sophia the man no have some 
coffee last night. Man say he send some seex 
this morning. He no send. Maybe he forgeet. 
Sophia no have enough coffee, so use some tea 
with it to make more. No good? No good?” 
And Sophia looked sorely distressed. 

Frances went back to the dining-room to 
explain. 

While down town she had ordered the pair of 
blankets needed, but did not think to mention 
the fact to her mother before leaving for college. 
Two hours later Mrs. Fern went down town, and 
not having heard from Frances that she had 
ordered the blankets, promptly ordered a pair 

262 


NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 


also. As she entered the Campus, Frances was 
overtaken by Morton, who was rushing on to the 
high school a few blocks beyond, and having 
overheard her talking to her mother about the 
previous nights experience he stopped to ask : 

“ Did you stop at the store about the blankets?” 
for he was very devoted to Frances in his boyish 
way, and was much disturbed to think that he 
had not brought down her cot for her. 

“ I shall not freeze to-night,” answered Frances 
playfully, as she gave him a good-natured pat 
upon his shoulder as he bounded off. 

“ Bet a cent she forgot to order them,” was 
his mental comment. “But I ’ll take good care 
that she has some to-night, anyway.” 

While Mrs. Fern was downtown Frances’ 
purchase had arrived, and, finding it upon her 
return, she concluded it was the one she herself 
had bought, and placed it upon the foot of her 
bed. She was absent at a sewing-class when her 
own purchase was delivered, and Frances 
received it, placed it in the closet for future use 
263 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


and went about her duties. Boy-like, Morton 
had promptly forgotten all about his resolution 
until it was almost eight o’clock, and then scram- 
bling out of the chair in which he was buried, 
lost to everything but the recovery of “ The 
Belt of the Seven Totems,” he said: 

“ Oh, I forgot ! I ’ll be back in a few 
minutes ; ” and without another word of ex- 
planation tore out of the door and downtown as 
though his life depended upon it. 

“ What in this world did he mean ? ” asked 
Frances. 

“ I have n’t the least idea,” replied her 
mother, as she went out to the kitchen, “ but I 
dare say he has forgotten some errand and has 
rushed off to do it before the stores close.” A 
guess which was not far wrong, for in a surpris- 
ingly short time he came back breathless, bear- 
ing in his arms a huge bundle, which he dumped 
into Frances’s lap with : 

“ I knew you would n’t think of it, so I went 
down to Downing’s and got one myself. He 
264 


NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 


asked me if we were all looking for a blizzard 
up this way, but I did n’t see any sense in his 
asking that for just one blanket.” 

“ A blanket?” said Frances, as she took the 
wrappings from the monstrous bundle in her 
lap. “Why, I got a blanket this morning. 
But you were awfully good to think of me, dear. 
Well, never mind, we can always find use for 
two, especially if this winter proves as cold as 
last winter was. Come along to the sitting-room 
and help me make up the cot. I ’ll use the 
blanket you bought, and shall sleep all the 
cosier because you thought of me. It is prettier 
than the one I bought, too,” and she took from 
the closet the one she had put there. 

Together they went into the front room, and 
began to arrange the cot, Morton filled with 
pride that she would use his blanket, and quite 
agreeing that it was by far the prettier of the 
two. Frances laid hers upon a chair and pro- 
ceeded to make up the cot with his, when in 
265 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


sailed Mrs. Fern with blanket number three. 
Tableau ! 

The week was drawing to an end, and had 
been fraught with many annoyances from the 
new guests. Time and again Frances had been 
upon the point of asking them to find accommo- 
dations elsewhere, and each time the thought of 
the sum of money which their remaining meant 
arose before her, and she felt that she must 
endure almost anything rather than sacrifice 
that when it was so much needed this first 
year. Each day had held its special trials, for 
one thing had followed upon another, until 
Frances said to Newton when he joined her on 
her way to market Saturday morning : 

“ I believe I am growing a perfect cranh, but 
I do declare it is the little trials of life which 
are hardest to bear, and those men seem to have 
a rare and unique assortment of them ready to 
launch upon the unwary. They began with a 
bang, and no mistake, and how I am ever to 
replace that looking-glass I just don’t know.” 

266 


NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 


“ Why, make them , of course ! Why in the 
world should you stand that racket?” 

“ That sounds easy to say, but how am I 
going to force them to pay for it ? I have asked 
them to do so, but they have not taken the 
slightest notice of my request. One day they 
used the towels to clean their shoes with, and 
just ruined two of the best. Day before yester- 
day they burned a hole in the bedspread by 
leaving a lighted cigar in the middle of the bed. 
Last night they nearly set the house afire by up- 
setting their lamp while cutting up, and if it 
had not been for Mr. Wyatt I dare say we should 
have gone skyward in smoke. They are just 
awful , and the worst of it is I am afraid that 
they will demoralize all the others.” 

“ Look here ; you ’ve got to fire ’em, certain 
as the world. I ’ll fix ’em. Ask for their room 
when their week is up Monday, and I’ll see that 
it is rented to decent fellows, if you must rent 
it.” 

“ Shall I really? I ought to rent the room 
267 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


if I possibly can ; but I can’t bear to have such 
men.” 

“Yes, bounce ’em. Cads! do they think that 
they can act like that in decent people’s homes? 
There are two awfully nice fellows up at the 
Beta Theta who are not satisfied where they are, 
and will be glad to change; so I ’ll make it my 
business to see that they do, and come straight 
to the Fernery.” 

“What a good friend you are!” cried Frances. 
“You are forever helping me out of a snarl. 
What in the world I ’ll do when you go back 
East for good and all, I ’m sure I don’t know.” 

“ You ’ll be a flourishing Senior by that time 
yourself, and won’t need coaching. What do 
you think you ’ll do when you ’ve finished your 
course here?” 

“ Good gracious, I’ve never dared look so far 
ahead,” cried Frances. “Two years? What 
do you take me for — a ‘ Seer?’” 

“A jolly chum. Good-bye! I ’ve to get into 
my ball togs. Going to do the country this 
268 


NEWTON COMES TO THE RESCUE 


year.” And so they parted two of the best hoy 
and girl friends that ever had common interests. 

And now we must take a long step forward to 
the Senior year of which Newton spoke. Frances 
had clung firmly to her purpose during her 
Sophomore and Junior years, working, studying, 
contriving, and, best of all, succeeding. As time 
went on she became more accustomed to her 
duties, and, consequently, they were less chafing. 

Her record at college had been of the best, 
and although she sometimes quaked inwardly, 
she worked away, saying to her mother : 

“ Professor J says nothing ; but he 

smiles on me, and that raises my hopes.” 

And now she was about to enter upon her 
last year of college work. The two years in 
Ann Arbor had done much for the children, 
and Frances felt that, had there been nothing 
else to show for her labor, this would have been 
a great reward. Edith was now in the High 
School, stronger in both mind and body than 

269 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


she had ever been. Morton had distinguished 
himself in his school work, had been appointed 
secretary of the “H. S. Athletic Association,” 
and had gained exactly what Frances had so 
earnestly hoped for him : self-poise, self-confi- 
dence and a keen ambition for future honors. 
Little Nelson was doing equally well in the 
Grammar School, and all three were more than 
fulfilling her hopes for them. So it is no won- 
der that when the students again gathered be- 
neath their roof, and the University work began 
in earnest, that Frances felt that she had a great 
deal to be thankful for, and took up the work 
with renewed courage and the determination to 
come out with colors flying. 


CHAPTER XXII 
AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 

<( /^\ OOD-MOKNING! How goes it? Got 
I “1” under full headway? House pretty 
full? Outlook good for last heat of 
the race? You ’ll come out a winner. Got 
your cliecque this morning. Nothing like being 
prompt. Laid in a good stock for a starter ? ” 
and the speaker peered into the storeroom which 
opened off the kitchen, to give a nod of satis- 
faction at sight of its well-filled shelves. There 
were boxes of cereals, a barrel of flour, one of 
sugar, and quantities of every staple article 
needed to run a large boarding-house. 

Mrs. Fern and Frances were consulting about 
the day’s marketing, for Frances was still up 
betimes and off before breakfast. This year she 
271 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


did not meet Newton each morning, and have 
his nonsense and fun to cheer her, and sound 
advice to help. But a new and rather amusing 
feature of her morning’s outgoings had developed. 
During their second year in Ann Arbor they 
experienced one of their greatest trials, for, hav- 
ing been forced to earn her own way through col- 
lege, Frances was very sympathetic for others, and 
her sympathy very nearly led to her undoing. 
She had taken several young women at prices 
which were simply ruinous to her. She and her 
mother had helped them in every possible way, 
by sewing for them, providing them with fuel 
for their stoves when the thermometer was at 
zero, and they had declared their inability to 
afford it, waited patiently for them to pay their 
board bills when the bills were long overdue, 
only to have some of them go away in the mid- 
dle of the season to take up their quarters in a 
far more expensive place, and leave a very sub- 
stantial debt in their old one. 

Besides this loss she had illness to contend 

272 


AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 


with, for the children each and all developed 
fine cases of mumps, which not only created a 
diversion in the household, hut nearly emptied 
it as well, for many of the students went else- 
where for a time. Some had returned and some 
had not, but the inevitable result was the same. 
When the New Year dawned Frances found 
herself with a nearly empty house, a good-sized 
doctor’s bill to pay, and not enough on hand to 
meet her rent for January. 

They were bitter days for the girl, and she 
was well-nigh in despair one morning when 
she made her way to Mr. Wood’s house to explain 
the situation to him, and ask that he would al- 
low her a little time. It required all her self- 
control, for, whatever had happened before, she 
had always been able to hand him her rent the 
moment it was due, and he had taken it without 
a comment, peered at her from beneath his shaggy 
eyebrows and handed her a receipt. 

But here was a new experience, and when 
Mr. Wood’s old housekeeper opened the door 
«73 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


for lier the girl’s heart nearly dropped into her 
shoes. 

“ So the funds have given out this month ? 
Can’t meet the rent ? Hope they will be easier 
next ? Are n’t you sailing too close to the 
wind ? Bad plan. Ought to keep an anchor 
to windward ! Well, I suppose I ’ll have to 
wait whether I want to or not. Can’t you settle 
half?” 

“ I wish that I could, Mr. Wood, for it dis- 
tresses me fully as much as it does you to find 
myself in financial straits.” 

“How do you know it does? Mebbe I don’t 
care a cent what sort of straits you find yourself 
in.^ Landlords don’t generally, they say. All 
they want is their rent paid promptly, and most 
of ’em would n’t mind if it was paid consider- 
able beforehand. Going home now ? I ’ll walk 
along with you if you don’t mind. Got to go 
on beyond to the store ; ” and, clapping on the 
big Alpine hat and monstrous fur-trimmed 
overcoat, and catching up his cane and gloves, 
274 


AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 


he opened the door for her, and out they went 
side by side, Frances wishing with all her heart 
that the “ store ” lay two miles in the opposite 
direction rather than in the direction of her own 
home. 

When they reached it, Mr. Wood followed 
her straight in, and, planting himself in the 
sitting-room, asked to see Mrs. Fern, and then 
stayed one solid hour. When that hour ended 
he knew more of the family, its early history 
and its present struggles than Mrs. Fern even 
vaguely suspected. 

Frances had been obliged to excuse herself 
and go to a lecture, but Mrs. Fern was literally 
cornered, for barely had she taken her seat upon 
entering the room than Mr. Wood changed his, 
so placing himself that his back was to the light, 
and her face where he could note every change 
of countenance. Nor could she well change her 
position, as he completely filled the space between 
window and table, thereby shutting off her one 
path of escape. He had done nothing rude, and 

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DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


had asked no pointed questions, but, in talking 
the affair over with Frances upon her return 
from college, Mrs. Fern had said : 

“I just don’t know why I said as much as I 
did. Somehow I could n’t help it. He sat 
there looking at me from under those eyebrows 
and nodding and wagging his head for all the 
world like one of those Chinese Mandarins, and 
I sort of forgot all about our worries, and began 
to chatter away about Mitonville. The first 
thing I knew an hour had passed, and there he 
was still nodding at me.” 

And from that day not one had passed without 
his appearance at the kitchen-door just as 
Frances was about to start for market, and the 
usual salutation was similar to the one which 
opens this chapter. Sometimes he would walk 
with her until Newton joined her, and now that 
Newton was no longer in Ann Arbor, she rarely 
failed to have his company on her way down- 
town. Some of the students tried to tease her 
once in a while about her “ devoted cavalier,’’ 
276 


AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 


but Frances was not one with whom people took 
liberties, and the teasing was soon dropped. 

Mrs. Fern and Frances looked up, nodded a 
pleasant good-morning to their early visitor, and 
the latter said : 

“Just come in and look! You never saw 
such a supply ; and the funniest thing about it 
is that Smith & Green sent it with their compli- 
ments and a nice little note to say that we had 
been such steady and profitable customers for 
two years that they wanted to show their 
appreciation and be sure of holding our trade 
for this year. Did you ever hear of such a 
thing ? If they do that way with all their cus- 
tomers they will either straightway die or 
become bankrupt ! They are entirely too good 
for this world/’ and Frances laughed as she 
pointed to the things in the storeroom. 

“ Good stock of breakfast cereals ! Yes, that s 
all right. Any canned goods ? ” said their land- 
lord, peering further into the big closet. 

“ Gracious, ves! Just loads/’ said Mrs. Fern. 

18 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. 2 7 7 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ We never started out so well stocked in all 
our lives, did we, mother ? But I am going to 
ask Smith & Green to let me pay for it. It 
is n’t right to accept all this, even as an invest- 
ment for our ‘good will/ I cant pay for it all 
at once, of course; for it represents a pretty 
sizable sum, and although the exchequer is not 
at quite the low ebb it once was — ” and here 
Frances glanced at their visitor with a roguish 
smile, for she had never forgotten her visit to 
him or its very prompt return, nor how thank- 
ful she felt when, later, she had placed the ar- 
rears of rent in his hands — “ I can’t go into the 
wholesale grocery business just yet.” 

At her concluding words Mr. Wood had 
whirled shortly about, and was now simply 
glowering at her. 

“Don’t you do anything of the sort! You 
take it and say nothing, except to thank them 
for it if you want to. It won’t break ’em. 
They ’ve got a plenty. You can bet a dollar- 
bill that they would n’t do it if they did n’t 
278 


AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 


know that they ’d get it back five times over, 
somehow.” 

“ Well, they certainly will never get it back 
from us. We may buy a good deal ; but we 
don’t keep a city hotel,” laughed Frances. “I 
must pay them.” 

“If you do, I’ll box your ears!” was the 
astonishing answer, and with this joking remark 
he stalked out of the storeroom. 

The house this year was full almost to over- 
flowing; for Frances’ reputation was now firmly 
established, and she could have easily filled a 
house double the size. It was a jolly, happy 
lot of men and girls, too; for experience had 
taught Frances that to choose with discretion 
was quite as much a part of the business as to 
fill her house with a large number. 

The dinner was just over, a senior law-student 
was standing in the pantry wiping goblets which 
a Junior medical student was washing, and their 
tongues were as hard at work as their hands. 

“ Here, you Medic., this glass is n’t half 

279 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


washed. Can’t have such slack methods in this 
establishment!” 

“ It ’s all the fault of your drying. Who 
would ever expect a Law to do clean work?” 

“Of course, they can’t when they have to 
handle something a quack turns out.” 

“ If it was n’t for the quacks, they ’d have 
precious little to do, anyway. We keep the 
people in fit condition to conduct their business 
and keep things lively.” 

“ Why this unseemly recrimination ? Please 
attend to business; for these glasses must shine!” 
Mrs. Fern remarked. 

“Ha! Haa!! Haaa!!!” cried a genuine 
Irish voice from the kitchen, where Bridget, 
Sophia’s successor, was scouring the pots and 
pans. “ Did you ever hear the loikes of ’em, 
Mrs. Fern? They do be ready to take the 
heads arf one another. An’ will ye be cornin’ 
here a minit, plaze, for Miss Frances she said 
we must have baked beans for the supper, and, 
faith, how am I to bake these hard things ? I ’ ve 
280 


AN EVERY-DAY SANTA CLAUS 


spent half the mornin’ crackin’ thim wid the 
tack hammer; but, bless us, they ’re hard as 
rocks.” 

The shout of laughter which rose at Bridget’s 
expense caused the rival students to forget their 
respective claims to superiority. 

281 




















































































































































































































































































































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CHAPTER XXIII 

Frances’ first step toward fame 

F ROM the beginning of her university 
career Frances had taken the keenest 
delight in her laboratory work, and, 
although entirely unaware of the fact, had been 
closely watched by the professor, who at the 
very outset had taken a great fancy to the girl, 
being won at first by her frank, open manner, 
entirely free from affectation, and her readiness 
to do her very best in whatever she attempted. 
Unknown to her, he had contrived to learn a good 
deal about her family and her efforts in their 
behalf, and entertained a very sincere admir- 
ation for her. 

As a result of all this Frances awoke one fine 
morning to find that she had been appointed by 
283 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the Board of Regents to fill the position of 
assistant in the chemical laboratory, and that 
her work would be to help the Freshmen in their 
work. 

She had not the least suspicion of the honor 
which had been “ thrust upon ” her until she 
entered the laboratory shortly after the first 
semester had begun, and was met by a rousing 
university yell from the students assembled 
there. Without the least idea of what they 
were yelling for, Frances caught the contagion 
and began to yell, too. 

“ Here ! Here ! You should n’t do the 
shouting ! That ’s for us to do on this occasion,” 
cried one of the new girls. 

“ U. of M. Bah ! Bah ! 

Hoo ! Bah ! Hoo ! Bah 1 
Michigan ! Michigan ! 

Bah! Bah! Bah! 

What ’s the matter with Fernie ? She ’s all right ! 

Bah! Bah! Bah ! ” 

Frances looked at them in utter bewilderment, 
284 


FIRST STEP TOWARD FAME 


and was striving to make her voice heard above 
the racket when the professor entered the room 
and came toward her with his hand extended, 
and a very cordial smile upon his lips. “ Allow 
me to offer my very sincere congratulations, 
Miss Fern. I also feel that I should be con- 
gratulated in having secured the cooperation of 
such a very efficient assistant.” 

“ But what is it ? What have I done f ” cried 
Frances, more than ever at sea. 

“ Have you not received your notice of 
appointment ? ” asked the professor. 

“ I do not know what appointment you mean, 
Professor. I have never applied for one of any 
sort.” 

“ Then the pleasure of announcing to you that 
you have been appointed my assistant is also 
mine, and I repeat my congratulations.” 

“ That I am to be your assistant ? Oh, that 
can't be true; it is altogether too splendid to 
believe ! ” she exclaimed, too excited to make a 
nice choice of her adjectives. 

285 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


The professor smiled as lie shook her hand 
again, and said: 

“ There will be more of mutual satisfaction 
than splendor connected with the work* I fancy ; 
but, nevertheless, even that is not to be lightly 
valued, so let us begin our joint duties at once.” 

Frances never knew how she managed to get 
through that morning, or what startling state- 
ments she may have made to those all too credu- 
lous “Freshies.” Somehow the hour came to an 
end at last, and even in her chase after Mrs. 
Earnes’ fancied burglar when she first arrived 
in Kenwood Frances had not made better time 
than she made when going home with this 
wonderful bit of news. 

Her mother was out in the kitchen preparing 
a batch of biscuits for dinner when Frances came 
tearing through the house, bearing in her hand 
the big envelope, which she had found upon the 
little table in the hall where the mail was laid 
for the inmates of the house. It had been the 
very first thing she had spied upon entering the 
286 


FIRST STEP TOWARD FAME 


front door, and the sight of that plump envelope 
bearing the official stamp had been the final 
capstone to her happiness, for even before she 
opened it she knew that it was confirmation sure 
of all that had taken place during the morning, 
and that the experience had been no dream, but 
a wonderfully gratifying reality. 

“Mother! Mother Fern! Where are you, oh, 
where are you ? What do you think has 
happened to me ? ” she called as she rushed into 
the kitchen. 

Mrs. Fern let fall the sieve of flour she was 
holding, and was instantly enveloped in a cloud 
of white powder. 

“ My goodness, Frances ! What in the world 
is the matter ? Is somebody killed outright ? ” 

“ Look at this ! Look at this ! I’ma full- 
fledged assistant, and my professional wings have 
begun to sprout! Is n’t it perfectly splendid? 
I ’m so proud and more or less wild over my 
honors that I ’ve just got to do something rash 
or fly all to pieces ! ” and clasping her arms 
287 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


about the astonished little woman, whose face was 
well floured and whose hands were mounds of 
dough, she whirled her about the kitchen until 
she was breathless, Bridget meanwhile clapping 
her hands and laughing until the room rang. 

“ Oh, Miss Frances, dear ! Miss Frances, 
dear ! Has yer sthone ship come sailin’ in fer 
shure, darlint ? ” 

“ It lias n’t reached port yet, Bridget, but 
wireless telegraphy has reported it, and there is 
no telling how soon it will arrive,” answered 
Frances as she brought her mother up in front 
of the table, and' began to brush the flour from 
her and set her straight generally, for the wild 
dance through the kitchen had decidedly ruffled 
her attire. 

“ Well, suppose you tell me what it is all about 
now. It ought to be a wonderful windfall to 
create such a tornado,” laughed Mrs. Fern, as 
she gave herself a little shake to settle herself. 

“ Yes, I know I ’ve acted just dreadfully; but 
don’t speak one word or draw a long breath 
288 


FIRST STEP TOWARD FAME 


while I read this,” and Frances drew from the 
envelope the notice of her appointment and read 
it aloud. 

Bridget had been listening eagerly, and when 
Frances finished reading she exclaimed : 

“And Miss Frances is tjiot schmart tliot she ’ll 
be aftlier runnin’ the whole college ! Think of 
thot, now, an’ she not yit two-an’-twinty ! ” 

When Frances arrived at the laboratory the 
following morning she found that a desk had 
been placed there for her especial use, and al- 
though it was neither new nor modern, it would 
serve her turn, and had drawers and cubby- 
holes galore in which her various belongings 
could be tucked safely away. It stood in one 
corner not far from the tank in which the live 
frogs enjoyed life until called upon to yield it up 
in the cause of science. There were sixty of 
them, of all ages and sizes, and of all tones of 
vocal development, Ben Butler, the patriarch of 
the tank, holding the honored position of bass- 
soloist. Usually they all were in full tune early 
289 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


in the morning and late in the afternoon, but 
Ben was undoubtedly under training for some 
celebrated recital, for he felt constrained to de- 
vote at least six hours a day to practice. 

Frances had almost always been the first to 
arrive in the morning, and rarely failed to bring 
some particularly coveted dainty to the family 
dwelling in the big tank. The other students 
often teased her about her devotion to “ her 
ancestors/’ but she invariably laughed and an- 
swered : 

“ If they are willing to supply substance for 
my brain, I can, at least, supply substance for 
their bodies as long as they need it.” 

Although she was upon the scene even earlier 
than usual, she was somewhat surprised to see a 
number of the students in the laboratory before 
her. Going as usual to feed her frogs, she was 
a little startled to find the tank empty. Upon 
this morning in particular the frogs were much 
needed. Once before the inmates of the tank 
had managed to make their escape when especially 
290 


FIRST STEP TOWARD FAME 


needed, but they bad been assisted in tlieir 
“ little journey in the world ” by some Juniors 
who had been paying off an old score against 
one of the professors. 

Frances was much disturbed by this little 
hitch in the program at the very outset of her 
career as an assistant, and set about hunting in 
every corner of the laboratory ; the students 
joining in with wonderful ardor and many 
expressions of sympathy, until it suddenly 
dawned upon Frances that it might be a case of 
“the lady doth protest too much,” and she began 
to grow suspicious. 

So, leaving the others to pursue the search, 
she walked over to her desk, raised the lid, and 
was greeted with “Ker-cho! Ker-chug!” as 
“Ben Butler” looked up at her and blinked at 
the sudden transition from inky night to broad 
daylight. At the choir-master’s keynote there 
arose a jubilee upon all sides; alto, soprano, 
tenor and the whole category of tones holding 
forth with might and main. 

291 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


Frances quickly opened the little doors of the 
desk, which shut from sight its many “ pigeon- 
holes,” and found her choral club; for each and 
every hole held one or more frogs clamoring, in 
every key, to be let out of their gloomy dun- 
geons and restored to the bliss of puddles and 
sunshine. 

During the early autumn days Frances tried 
to spend as much time as possible out of doors. 
The boys, of course, found most of their amuse- 
ment there, and were members of “all the good 
things going,” as they expressed it; but Edith 
was a rather quiet little body, and rarely sought 
the other girls of her age ; so during the beauti- 
ful weather Frances often took her books and 
the little girl, and rowed up the river to a 
pretty, secluded spot, where, while she put in 
an hour or two of good solid reading, Edith 
could amuse herself rowing about, or join her 
and luxuriate in the warm grass and soft autumn 
sunshine. 

They were rowing home the afternoon of 

292 



Doughnuts and Diplomas — 7. 

“‘WHAT DO YOU THINK HAS HAPPENED TO ME?”’ 

See p. 287. 



























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4 




* 



































i 3 





























FIRST STEP TOWARD FAME 


Frances’ frog-experience, pulling lazily at the 
oars, when, chancing to glance toward the oppo- 
site bank, they spied Mr. Wood waving his cane 
in one hand and his hat in the other, and beck- 
oning between times for them to row over to 
where he stood. 

Wondering what could be the matter with 
him, Frances directed the boat toward the shore, 
and, when within hailing distance, was greeted by: 

4 4 1 told ’em I ’d bet on you! Professor ’s 

a trump. Shows his good sense. We Ve got 
to celebrate. Come up to the bank and take me 
on board. Hand over those oars. I have n’t 
forgot how to pull. Now, what shall it be? 
How about a trolley ride for the whole family 
next Saturday morning ? Go out to Longmead. 
It ’s a pretty place. Your mother thinks so.” 
And a funny twinkle came into his eyes. 

“What are we to celebrate, Mr. Wood?” 
asked Frances ; for she had entirely lost her 
sense of shyness in his presence, and understood 
him for exactly what he was : a man of rough 

iq — D oughnuts and Diplomat. 2Q 3 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


exterior, but with the warmest heart that ever 
beat beneath such an outside, and ever ready to 
do a kind act, although wildly indignant if any- 
one alluded to it. 

“Why, what would we celebrate? Do you 
think it is just an every-day affair to be ap- 
pointed an assistant in the University of Mich- 
igan?” 

“Oh, it is all in my honor! Then we will 
celebrate, by all means!” 

Mr. Wood peered at her from under his eye- 
brows, gave a nod, and said, sternly : “ Sauce- 
box!” 

294 


r CHAPTER XXIV 


u POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT ” 

“ f I ^AKE your time ! Take your time ! No 
need to hurry. The world was n’t 
made in a minute! Keep cool, young 
man ! We ’ll get aboard as fast as we can and 
want to. You ’re here for our accommodation; 
not we for yours. Sit here, Mrs. Fern; view ’s 
better. Make room for your mother, boys; no 
need to rush and push. Here, Frances, sit this 
side of me, where I can talk to you when I 
want to. You sit next your mother, Puss, 
Well, I do declare! Madam, I am sure you are 
destined to achieve fame and fortune!” This 
last remark was addressed to an over-dressed 
young woman, who, notwithstanding that there 
was ample room at the upper end of the big 

295 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


trolley car into which Mr. Wood was ushering 
his party upon the following Saturday morning, 
had crowded herself down beside Mrs. Fern, 
leaving Edith to stand or take a seat alone else- 
where. But Mr. Wood was entirely equal to 
the emergency, and at first the young woman 
did not grasp the sarcasm of his remark, but 
bridled and smiled most graciously at him as 
she replied: “ Indeed! How so?” “ Therein 
lies subject for thought, ma’am, and I would 
suggest that you take this seat in the corner, 
where you will have less to distract you.” And, 
removing his hat, he bowed most gravely as he 
waved his hand toward the seat upon the other 
side of the car. With the funniest of funny 
expressions upon her face, the young woman 
bustled over to it ; and not until she had settled 
herself and her frills to her entire satisfaction 
did she seem to comprehend that Mr. Wood’s 
speech was capable of more than one interpre- 
tation. When she finally did awaken to that 
fact she shot viperish glances at him; but he 

296 


“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT” 


was occupied with liis charges, and had appa- 
rently entirely dismissed her from his thoughts. 

“ Fine day. Made to order. See all to be 
seen. Won’t have to think about getting home 
on the minute. Let the house run itself for one 
day. This girl here deserves a holiday. She ’s 
a trump!” And he patted Frances upon the 
shoulder. “All right over there, Puss? Can’t 
have you uncomfortable. Never would know 
it if you were unless I found it out myself. 
Boys pretty well able to look out for themselves. 
Enjoy a trolley ride, Mrs. Fern? Longmead ’s 
a pretty suburb. But you ’ve some idea of how 
it looks.” And a comical twinkle stole into his 
eyes. 

“Well, I have n’t!” was the prompt answer. 
“ If you think that I was in any frame of mind 
that day to ‘take notice,’ you are very much 
mistaken. I don’t believe I should know that 
house again if I were to see it; and my only 
distinct idea of Longmead is a dreadful place 
where people lose the very last cent they have 
297 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


in this world, and have to depend upon charity 
to get home again.” 

Mr. Wood turned to Frances and remarked : 

“ Funerals are sort of unsettling, ain't they? 
Has she been to any more lately?” 

“No! And the next time she does go she 
will take pretty good care to find out whose it 
is!” was the reply from Mrs. Fern. 

Meantime Frances was laughing quietly and 
doing some thinking. Never before had Mr. 
Wood presumed to address her as ‘Frances,' nor 
had he ever spoken to Edith in the affectionate 
tone he now employed. What had come over 
him she could not guess, but decided that the 
kindly nature which usually he was at so great 
pains to conceal was cropping to the surface in 
spite of him, and that the true man was showing 
himself. 

It was nearly an hour's ride to Longmead, 
and when it was reached Mr. Wood descended 
from the car, assisted Mrs. Fern from it, and 
then, turning to the children, said: 

298 


“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT” 


“ Now, tliis is to be your day and mine , and 
we he just going to have a heap of fun. See 
that boat down yonder ?" he asked, pointing to 
a pretty rowboat which was fastened to the 
bridge. “That 's mine. Go hong down and 
pile in and take a pull upstream. Take Puss 
with you, and don't, on your lives, spill her 
overboard. She could n't drown if she wanted 
to, 'cause the river ain’t deep enough up that 
way, but I don't want any mishaps this day. 
I 'll take charge of these two. When you 've 
rowed all you want to, tie up the boat where you 
got it, and then follow this road straight out till 
you come to a house that 's being painted yellow 
and white. Know those colors ? Yes ? All 
right. Come there. Good-bye;" and with a 
wave of his hand to the eager boys he turned to 
Mrs. Fern, offered his arm very gallantly, and 
added : 

“ Going to show you something of the place. 
You may take a notion to move out to a suburb 
some day, when you 've got clear of this young 

299 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


woman,” nodding toward Frances. “I own 
considerable property out this way. Maybe 
you ’d take a shine to one of iny houses. We ’ll 
walk round and let you take a look.” 

“ I am afraid that mother is not going to get 
rid of me quite so easily, Mr. Wood, and we 
shall have to be a good bit richer than we are 
now before we can even dare think of the luxury 
of a suburban home.” 

“ Like the country ? Want to live there ?” 

“ I love it ! My pet dream has always been 
to finish my education, secure a fine position, and 
then settle mother and the children in some 
pretty country home. I am afraid that it can 
never be very pretentious, but if it is all our own, 
and I can earn it, I shall be the proudest girl in 
the United States. 

“ Got some plans all laid for next year?” 

“ Well, the plans are laid all right enough,” 
answered Frances laughingly. “ But whether 
they will ever materialize is quite another ques- 
tion. I ’ve been keeping my eyes open, and I 
300 


i“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT’* 


liaye just the tiniest, faintest hope that I may- 
secure a position in the chemical laboratory* 

thanks to Professor ’s good will. My 

first step toward it is taken, anyway, and there 
is no telling what may follow if I conduct my- 
self as a wise Senior should,” and Frances gave 
a joyous little skip, for the frosty October air 
was wonderfully exhilarating, and for this day, 
at least, she was determined to be care-free. 

Mr. Wood had regarded her very closely as 
she talked, and at her concluding words turned 
toward Mrs. Fern to ask : 

“ Has she always been such a level-headed 
young woman ? ” 

“Her father used to say that she was his 
* right bower/” answered Mrs. Fern. 

“ Guess she was a trump always. Goin’ to 
run a boardin’ house, too, if you turn out a pro- 
fessor ? ” 

“ I am afraid I shall not dare let go my sheet 
anchor yet awhile, but I sha’n’t mind it. I am 
used to the work now, and it does n’t seem any- 
301 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


thing like so liard as it did at the beginning. 
Oh, me ! But some of those days were just awful, 
and I don’t like to think about them. I shall 
have to turn the establishment over to mother, 
though, and let her run it, with me for a sort 
of general factotum when I can tuck in the 
time.” 

“ Next year is still twelve months off,” was 
Mrs. Fern’s characteristic reply, “ and I am not 
going to cross that bridge until I come to it. 
Bridges seem to be my fate, so I would better 
avoid them.” 

A merry laugh from their escort greeted the 
last remark, and then he said : 

“ What do you think of this place ? This is 
one of my houses. I ’m just having it fixed up 
a bit. Last tenant’s lease expired on the first 
of September. Have n’t decided what to do 
with it yet. Get it in shape first. Lived here 
myself once. Polly set great store by this house. 
Did n’t live to enjoy it, though. Goin’ to look 
302 


“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT” 


pretty slick wlien it 's all done ; don't you 
think so?" 

“ My good gracious ! ” was all Mrs. Fern 
said; for before her stood the very house to 
which she had come upon that memorable day 
of “ Louise Bedell Fowler's" funeral. 

“Kind er startled?" asked Mr. Wood with 
some concern. 

“ Well, I should think that I might be ! To 
think that of all the houses in this place I 
should come straight back to this one ! It 's 
lucky I have no uncomfortable superstitions 
concerning ghosts, or I should be seeing a spook 
in every corner." 

“ Why, you don't mean — " began Mr. Wood 
and Frances in one breath. 

“ Yes, I do, too ! It was right in that very 
room that I shed my tears of woe for Louise," 
and Mrs. Fern pointed to the large windows at 
the right of the door they were entering. 

“ Well, it 's sort of changed since then, ain’t 
3°3 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


it?” asked Mr. Wood, as lie led the way into 
the broad hallway. 

Mrs. Fern glanced quickly about and answered: 
“ I should say so ! ” 

The house had been vacated the first of Sep- 
tember, and during the weeks which had elapsed 
since that date Mr. Wood had been stirring 
about in his accustomed energetic manner ; and 
as a result of his stirring the house had been 
newly decorated and painted from top to bottom, 
inside and outside. 

Perhaps the style of decorations were not as 
chaste and elegant as one with a higher under- 
standing of art might have chosen ; but they 
certainly were wonderfully cheerful and inviting 
to look upon. Mr. Wood led them from room 
to room, upstairs, downstairs, talking, question- 
ing, asking their opinions, consulting their taste, 
until Frances burst out laughing almost in his 
face. 

“Hey! What? Sauce-box! What do you 
mean by laughing at me?” he demanded. 

3°4 


“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT 


frowning prodigiously and shaking liis head 
at her. 

“ I beg your pardon, Mr. Wood; Tbut it is all 
so perfectly funny. ,, 

“ What ’s funny, I ’d like to know ? ” 

“ Why, your asking our advice and opinions, 
just as though we were prospective tenants; and 
if I got the finest position which a Senior ever 
fell heir to I could never afford such a splendid, 
big house as this.” 

“You have n’t even asked the rent yet, 
miss.” 

“ Please, sir, will you kindly tell me the rent 
you ask for this house?” asked Frances de- 
murely ; for her awe of this big man was very 
rapidly giving place to a wonderfully kindly 
feeling. 

“A sight more than you will ever have dollars 
to pay,” was the prompt reply. “Come along 
out to the stables. They ’re pretty nice ones, 
too.” And, opening the back door, he led the 
way across the broad porch, with its wealth of 
3°5 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


trailing Virginia creeper, gorgeous in its autumn 
dress of scarlet and yellow leaves and rich pur- 
ple berries, \o the steps leading from the porch 
to the beautiful lawn. Under the great trees 
which shaded it was laid a table spread for a 
feast; and, to judge by the supply, Mr. Wood 
expected a goodly number to partake of it. 

“How in this world did you manage all this?” 
demanded Mrs. Fern. “You should n’t have 
gone to all this trouble for us, Mr. Wood.” 

“ What put a notion in your head that it was 
any trouble?” demanded Mr. Wood. 

“ People can’t get up such a feast without 
taking some trouble,” answered Mrs. Fern. 

“ Got to amuse myself somehow. What do 
you think of the stable?” and he threw open 
the big doors. The stable, like the house, was 
in perfect order, and they duly admired all its 
appointments, although, as Mrs. Fern drily re- 
marked: “I am afraid I am not very well pre- 
pared to judge of anything pertaining to ahorse, 
unless it be a clothes-horse. I know consider- 
306 


“POLLY SET GREAT STORE BY IT 


able about that sort, but my experience with other 
kinds has been limited to car-horses.” 

“No tellin’ to what you may come before 
you die, you know,” was Mr. Wood’s rather 
vague remark. 

They were still chatting together in a happy, 
light-hearted way when the boys and Edith ap- 
peared upon the scene. Mr. Wood waved his 
big cane at them as they came running across 
the lawn and shouted : 

“ Hi ! hi ! hi ! Just in time for dinner ! 
Come along. Beckon you want it!” 

When do boys not want it? Edith was not 
far behind, and in a very few moments a jolly 
party was gathered about the table under the 
trees, while Mr. Wood did the honors, doling 
out sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, pickles, and a 
dozen other things which gladden the eyes of 
half-famished children ; grown-ups, too, some- 
times. There was a caretaker in the house, 
who presently appeared with cups of fragrant 
coffee, and completed the feast 
3 ° 7 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


The afternoon was well advanced when the 
party turned their faces homeward, and not one 
of them realized how fraught with influence 
upon their future lives this little outing would 
prove. Perhaps one member of the party had 
some suspicion, but if he had he did not betray 
it in any way. 


CHAPTER XXV 


MRS. FERN STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 

T HE winter was well advanced, the holidays 
a thing of the past, and the students had 
settled down to the steady pace which 
would carry them surely and triumphantly to 
their long-sought goal. Frances had worked 
very, very hard, and showed traces of it in her 
face, for she was thinner than at the beginning 
of the year and had lost the bright color which 
contrasted so wonderfully with her olive skin. 
But she had never been happier, for all looked 
most encouraging for the future, and she felt 
that her chances were even brighter than she 
had ever dared hope. The first semester was 
drawing to an end, and although she was forced 
to devote seven and eight hours daily to her 

20 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. “300 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


reading, habit had made it easier for her, as she 
had learned the great secret of application and 
could work to good purpose when she worked. 

Latterly she had been obliged to leave more 
and more to her mother’s management, but Mrs. 
Fern had also been acquiring a good bit of 
knowledge of one sort and another during her 
residence in this big university town, and, all 
unknown to Frances, this knowledge was being 
turned to some profit. All her life Mrs. Fern 
had been fond of reading, and had devoured 
everything in the shape of literature that came 
in her way while residing in Mitonville. But 
Mitonville’s supply was extremely limited, and 
Mrs. Fern had never been able to subscribe to 
libraries in other towns. 

Once in Ann Arbor her appetite could be sat- 
isfied to the full, and the splendid library with 
its one hundred and twenty thousand volumes 
was a paradise on earth to her, where she could 
revel in books to her heart’s content. 

Early in her sojourn in Ann Arbor, and long 
3 IQ 


STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 


before either she or Frances felt at all certain 
of the outcome of their venture, she had formed 
the habit of visiting the library every morning, 
where she read, watched the students at their 
various occupations, and learned more of char- 
acter and human beings than she had learned 
before in all the years of her life. She was a 
keen observer, and possessed of a very lively 
imagination. As a result of this and her en- 
vironment she began to dash off little items 
regarding her observations, her impressions, and 
various happenings that fell in her way. Grad- 
ually the habit grew, until at last she began to 
write more connectedly, and one day, chancing 
to be present when something very amusing 
occurred, she wrote an account of it in her 
quick-witted, happy-go-lucky manner, sent it 
to a Chicago newspaper, and then forgot all 
about it. 

This was at the close of the first year, and 
the one which followed had been their hardest. 
When it was drawing to its close a letter came 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


to Mrs. Fern from a Chicago publisher, saying 
that he had read a short article in one of the 
evening papers, and had been so favorably im- 
pressed with it that he had gone to considerable 
pains to ascertain the writer’s address. He had 
at last succeeded in doing so, and was now 
writing to learn whether she had other articles 
of a similar nature which she would submit to 
him. 

Mrs. Fern did not say one word about the 
matter to her family, but set about gathering 
together and putting into shape the little sketches 
she had written during her stay in Ann Arbor. 
When they were ready she sent them upon their 
way, with very faint hopes for their future. 
There were, perhaps, half a dozen of them. 
Months passed by, and she heard nothing fur- 
ther of her fledgelings, and promptly made up 
her mind that their plumes had not sufficiently 
sprouted to bear their weight, and that they had 
met the fate of many another too ambitious 
fledgeling. 


312 


STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 


Then came another letter, stating that these 
articles would be accepted and used in the near 
future, and making her an offer for regular con- 
tributions of a similar nature. The letter was 
certainly a very flattering one, and Mrs. Fern 
had reason to feel that her first brood had done 
her credit. 

A lively correspondence resulted, and before 
she well knew what had happened Mrs. Fern 
found herself launched upon her stories, and 
plunging along under full sail. Still she said 
no word of it all to Frances, but worked away 
when the girl was absent or occupied with her 
studies. Thus far the returns had not been 
over-liberal ; for the publisher, although he was 
prompt to recognize the literary merit of the 
stories and sketches sent to him, was not above 
being equally prompt to take advantage of the 
author’s very evident inexperience in the liter- 
ary world, its ways and its workings. 

But Mrs. Fern’s knowledge was growing 
apace, and her last communication set her 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


thinking. Next she began to act. Thus far 
she had used the small sums of money for their 
various needs, feeling thankful that she was able 
to contribute even thus modestly to the family 
income. Frances had supposed that her mother 
was simply using to wonderful advantage the 
slender income which she was deriving from 
Mr. Fern’s life-insurance, and was glad to feel 
that she had something which she could really 
call her own. The girl, even in her most trying 
days, had never touched one penny of her 
mother’s money. 

So the little stories went their way, and ex- 
tremely modest sums came Mrs. Fern’s way, 
until one day while talking with the librarian, 
with whom she had become very friendly, she 
picked up the Chicago periodical containing 
one of her articles, and, opening it at her own 
story, asked : 

“ Have you read this little story, Miss ?” 

“Have I read it?” exclaimed Miss . 

“ Did n’t I sit up until midnight to finish it, 
3*4 


STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 


and laugh and cry over it in one breath? Is n’t 
it one of the cleverest things you ever read?” 

“Do you think so?” asked Mrs. Fern, with 
well assumed indifference. 

“ Why, certainly ! How can you , who are 
so quick to discover and appreciate what is 
really clever, fail to see the merit in this ? ” 

“ It impressed me as rather amateurish,” an- 
swered Mrs. Fern, with her heart beating so 
that she felt sure the quick-witted librarian must 
hear it. 

“Possibly it is very slightly so; but it is so 
overflowing with the ‘ touch of nature which 
makes the whole world kin/ that no one could 
fail to appreciate it, I feel sure. I predict a 
great future for the writer, whoever he may be. 

How is the article signed?” And Miss 

looked over the shoulder of the little woman 
beside her. “What an odd signature! It looks 
like a little tree. What can it be ? ” 

“ It looks as much like a cluster of ferns as 
3 r 5 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


anything else to me,” replied Mrs. Fern, doing 
her best to keep her hand from trembling. 

“ Why, of course it is ! How stupid of me ! 
Is n’t that a quaint idea?” 

“ What do you imagine the author received 
for the story?” 

“ That depends,” laughed Miss . “ If 

he is well known, he received a very goodly 
figure. If he is not, well — there is no telling. 
Had you asked me the value of it, I should have 
answered differently.” 

“What do you consider the value of it?” 
asked Mrs. Fern, almost in a whisper. 

“Let me see the length of it: about three 
thousand words, roughly speaking. You know 
I was associate editor on the Chicago Woodland 
before coming here, and we would have paid 
one hundred dollars for such an article in a 
minute.” 

“Oh!” was all Mrs. Fern replied; but she 
left the library a few minutes later with her 
head in a whirl. 


3 l6 


STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 


From that hour she had worked with renewed 
energy and care, going over her work again and 
again, until she felt that if improvement were 
to be made that someone other than herself 
must contribute it, for she had reached her 
limit. 

All this had happened in the early fall, and 
during the months which followed Mrs. Fern 
worked away upon her university story, ventur- 
ing out into hitherto unexplored seas, for this 
was to her most audacious effort, and what would 
be the outcome of her months of work she did 
not even dare stop to think. 

It was a bitter cold February afternoon. 
Frances was absent, and the children had not yet 
returned from school when Mrs. Fern laid down 
her pen, glanced once more through the manu- 
script before her, folded it carefully, placed it 
in its big, stout envelope, addressed it and rose 
from her chair. 

“ Now, I ’ll hurry downtown and put my fate 
to the test,” she said, and began taking out her 
3 1 7 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


outdoor garments. She lifted her bonnet from 
its box, took her heavy fur cape from its hook, 
and then opened her bureau-drawer to get her 
gloves. Just as she closed it again she spied a 
pin upon the floor. “ See a pin and pick it up, 
All the day you have good luck,” she said aloud, 
laughing at her own nonsense. “ That is what 
we used to say when we were children, and if the 
head was towards us we were surer than ever of 
good fortune. Mine must be coming with a 
rush.” Then she threw her cape about her, drew 
on gloves and hurried from the house. 

Once in the street she turned up the high fur- 
collar of her cape, for the wind was blowing half 
a gale, and penetrated to one’s very marrow. 
It was the afternoon before the Junior Hop, and 
the streets were crowded with carriages, and 
Fraternity men with their “ sisters, their cousins 
and their aunts.” 

It was a merry throng, bent upon a good 
time. Mrs. Fern gathered her cape closer about 
her and, struggled along against the wind as best 
318 


STARTLES THE COMMUNITY 


she could. She walked rapidly, for she was 
keyed up to a high pitch of excitement and was 
blissfully unconscious of the many people who 
glanced at her, smiled, and glanced a second 
time. But on she went through Main street, 
into the post-office, where she had her manu- 
script weighed, enclosed postage for its return if 
unavailable, stamped it, and sent it upon its way, 
saying mentally : “ There, sink or swim now ; I 
can do no more for you.” 

She was in the midst of the town, and making 
her way rapidly homeward still in a little world 
of her own as far removed from the laughing, 
chatting throng of Juniors as though a sea 
divided her from them, when she saw Nelson 
coming toward her upon a dead run. In his 
hands he held something black and white, and 
one glance at it as he approached her was 
enough. With a startled exclamation she raised 
her hands to her head just as a voice beside her 
demanded : “ For heaven’s sake, little woman, 


3*9 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


what are you doing in the middle of the town 
without any bonnet on such a day as this ? ” 

“Oh, mamma, mamma, I Ve run every bit of 
the way from the house to bring you your bon- 
net, Frances, and I came in and she found that 
you had gone out without it, and sent me chasing 
after you ! I ’ve had an awful time to find you 5 
for she thought that you had gone to the library, 
and I went there first.” 

Mrs. Fern took the bonnet, gave one hasty 
glance about her, and vanished into a near-by 
shop. When she emerged from it, she was de- 
murely bonneted ; but her face wore a quizzical 
expression. 

“ Will you walk home with us, Mr. Wood ? 
Perhaps a few moments’ conversation will restore 
your faith in my sanity. These attacks are not 
of frequent occurrence. They are the result of 
mental excitement as a rule.” 

Mr. Wood looked at her sharply for a mo- 
ment, then threw back his head, and laughed 
until passers-by turned to laugh in sympathy. 

3 20 


CHAPTER XXVI 


DIPLOMAS 

“ | V O I look all right, and have I managed 
9 to put on everything as it ought to be 
put on? It is so long since I have 
had time to think of frills and furbelows that I 
have almost forgotten how to wear them. Is n’t 
the gown sweet? How did you ever manage to 
make it so pretty, mother? Somehow, I cannot 
realize that I am /, and that my four years* 
work is over. Think of it! Think of it! I 
have actually passed all my examinations, and 
can now go out into the world with my diploma 
to seek my fortune! Why, I feel as though I 
could just hug you both for joy ! ” And Frances 
clasped both Mrs. Fern and Edith in a raptu- 
3 21 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


rous hug, regardless of new gown, frills or fur- 
belows. 

“I certainly congratulate you with all my 
heart,” said Mrs. Fern; “for you deserve all 
you have won.” 

This was a great deal for Mrs. Fern to say; 
for she was not given to praising her children, 
although she loved them very dearly. 

“ And I helped to make your graduating 
gown, Frances. I am so glad I sewed all that 
lace on the ruffles. It makes the day seem sort 
of mine, too, and I love to see you look pretty,” 
said Edith, as she fingered the soft organdie 
ruffles. 

It was by no means an elaborate gown ; for 
Frances would not spend their money upon her- 
self. She had bought an inexpensive, though 
fine, white organdie, and narrow Valenciennes 
edging with which to trim it. There was a soft 
ribbon collar and belt, with bows upon the left 
shoulder. That was all ; yet it would have been 
difficult for her to have chosen a more becoming 


322 


DIPLOMAS 


gown. Excitement brought a brilliant color to 
her cheeks and set her wonderful eyes shining 
like stars. 

They all were gathered in her mother’s room 
to help her dress for the Commencement exer- 
cises, and were wonderfully proud and happy 
over her success; for Frances had, indeed, come 
through with flying colors. In order to finish 
her course and include in it certain lines of 
study in which she especially wished to become 
proficient, she had taken two hours’ more class- 
work each week during the last semester than 
the University ever allowed without special 
permission, and had worked as she had 
never worked before. She had done this upon 

Professor s suggestion; for he had 

said: 

“ Miss Fern, do you think that it would be 
possible for you to take additional work during 
your last semester?” 

“ I presume I could do almost anything if I 
set about it in earnest,” Frances had replied ; 

3 2 3 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ but will you please tell me why you ask, Pro- 
fessor ? ” 

“ Gladly. Not long ago — indeed, but a week 
or two — I received a letter from my old friend, 
Dr. Frontell, of Stowell Collegiate School, in B. 
The school, he tells me, is growing very rapidly, 
and they are about to add to it a very fine 
laboratory, the gift of one of its patrons. Now, 
a laboratory must have someone to set things 
going, and see to it that they go properly, also, 

you know,” said Professor , smiling at 

Frances with the odd smile which, during the 
four years of her college course, she had learned 
to understand so well; for the good Professor 
did not smile upon the students unless they 
deserved his smile. “Dr. Frontell has asked 
me to keep my eyes well open, and, if possible, 
to send to him the names of one or two gradu- 
ates this year who would be eligible for the 
position when the laboratory shall be completed 
next fall. The salary offered is, in my estima- 
tion, a fine one. The work will be hard, and 
3 2 4 


DIPLOMAS 


the requirements no trifle; for lie distinctly 
specifies the line of duties. You are entirely 
familiar with all save one, and that is usually a 
special course taken by post-graduates. I know 
that you are anxious to lose no time in securing 
a position, and this would be a rare opportunity 
for you were you familiar with the course re- 
ferred to. ,, 

While Professor was speaking Fran- 

ces’ eyes had grown brighter at every word, and 
her fingers had clasped and unclasped nervously. 
Apparently he had not been conscious of her 
excitement, but when he finished speaking he 
quietly laid his hand over both hers, adding in 
the kindly manner which only his favorites ever 
knew: “I remember my first venture in the world 
many years ago. It is a great crisis in a young 
life, but try not to let it mean too much to you. 
If this fails there are other positions waiting for 
such a student. But I do not wish this to fail 
if it can be helped. Hence my question. ,, 

He shook her hand encouragingly and waited 

si — Doughnuts and Diploma. <2 2 ? 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


for her to answer. He was not obliged to wait 
long. 

“ Of course , I shall take up the work ! When 
may I come to consult with you about it?” 

“You will have, first of all, to apply for 
special permission to take the additional work, 
but that, I think, can easily be arranged. Then 
come to me, and we will see what can be done 
about it. May success crown your efforts. 
Good-morning, Miss Fern,” and with a courteous 
bow the kind professor went his way. 

When the second semester began Frances 
was under full headway, and at its end found 
herself numbered among the seven hundred 
graduates, with special honors to claim for her 
own. 

Now nothing remained but the Commence- 
ment exercises, and these were the same as many 
which had preceded them. But they never 
grow old or tiresome, for the simple reason that 
they must ever be a golden milestone in the 
lives of those most interested. 

326 


DIPLOMAS 


The exercises were over, and more than seven 
hundred young men and women, who for many, 
many months had been brought together by a 
common interest, were about to go their sev- 
eral ways. What their futures would prove, or 
whether their golden dreams would be realized, 
who could say ? 

At present there was no time for sober 
thoughts. All was “ merry as a marriage-bell,” 
as hundreds of people came from the great 
buildings, laughing, talking, offering congratula- 
tions, bidding farewell to friends whom, pos- 
sibly, they were destined never to look upon 
again, and passing out into the big, wide world 
before them. 

Frances, surrounded by a group of friends, 
with her mother and the children near at hand, 
was receiving warm congratulations. She had 
never looked so lovely, for a happier girl the 
University did not hold. Her share of the Com- 
mencement exercises had been very trying, for 
the honors she had won gave her a prominent 
3 2 7 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


place. She held in her hand the diploma she 
had just received, and had the testimonial of her 
ability been printed upon pure gold-leaf, instead 
of some unfortunate sheep’s skin, in her sight it 
could not have been more valuable. 

“ Well, I dare say that the next time we hear 
of Miss Fern she will be a full-fledged professor, 
ready to frown terror into some wretched 
Fresliie’s soul,” said one young man, as he shook 
Frances’ hand in farewell. 

“ I must first find a college which holds the 
‘Freshie,’” answered Frances laughing. Just 

then Professor was seen making his way 

through the crowd of people toward them. The 
students fell apart to make room for him, and, 
bowing graciously to all, he walked straight up 
to Frances with hand extended. “Allow me 
to offer to you my very heartiest and sincerest 
congratulations, Miss Fern. The University 
should be proud of such a graduate. I wish 
also to place this letter in your hand. I hesi- 
tated to do so before Commencement day, lest 
328 



Doughnuts and Diplomas— 9. 

“‘ALLOW ME TO OFFER TO YOU MY VERY HEARTIEST CONGRATU- 

LATIONS.’ ” 


Seep 328, 




DIPLOMAS 


it prove disquieting to you, but it has been in 
my possession more than a week. As I feel per- 
fectly confident of the reply you will make to it, 
I offer my congratulations beforehand, and wish 
you unbounded success in your new work. 

Frances looked a little bewildered while Pro- 
fessor was speaking, but one glance at 

the name in the upper lefthand corner of the 
envelope she held caused her to start. It bore 
the name of Stowell Collegiate School, and 

Frances knew that Professor would 

never have handed it to her had the news not 
been all she was hoping for. 

“ Thank you, oh, so much, Professor , 

but I think that I will not read it until I reach 
home,” said Frances in a voice that trembled. 

“It will keep and come to no harm, Miss 
Fern. I have taken the liberty of dropping a 
brief line to Dr. Frontell myself. Now, let me 
have a farewell word with your mother,” and 

Professor stepped over to where Mrs. 

Fern was talking with Mr. Wood, who had 
3 2 9 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


managed to plow his way through the throng, 
and to greet her with one of his characteristic 
remarks : “ Getting crushed flat as a flounder in 
this jam ? Could n’t stand such a racket more ’n 
once a year. Great girl over there ! I ’m 
proud of her. She ’ll go through life all right.” 

Mr. Wood walked home with them, and in 
the matter-of-course way which had lately become 
his habit entered the house with them and 
established himself in the big chair in the cosy 
sitting-room. They had grown to regard him 
almost as a member of their big family, and the 
children had fallen into the habit of going to 
him with all their little affairs and childish 
trials. The boys consulted him about all their 
school-sports and games ; Edith confided to him 
her modest little hopes and plans, for, even 
though fifteen years of age, Edith was still a 
child at heart, and had never entirely overcome 
her natural shyness. She made very few friends, 
but was a loyal little body to those whom she 
loved. For some strange reason, Mr. Wood, 
330 


DIPLOMAS 


with his brusque, abrupt ways, had wholly and 
entirely won her heart, and it would not have 
been well for anyone to criticise him in her 
presence. 

She had nearly completed her High School 
course, and would graduate the following year, 
as would Morton also, for “ he was n’t going 
to be beaten by that kid sister of his; not 
much ! ” 

Nelson still had two years in the Grammar 
School, for Nelson was rather a dreamy body, 
much given to forgetting the real world about 
him and slipping away into a wonderful world 
of his own, peopled by the animals and birds 
which he loved and understood so well. 

Frances had been somewhat worried about the 
boy, and had spoken to the principal of the 
Grammar School about him and the slow pro- 
gress he was making. 

“ Let him alone, Miss Fern/’ that wise man 
had answered. “ Some day you may waken to 
find that your family has given to the world 
33i 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


a famous naturalist. Stranger things than that 
have come to pass.” 

There were but fifteen months’ difference in 
Morton’s and Edith’s ages, and for the first few 
months in Ann Arbor she had kept ahead of 
him in their studies. Then came the ambitious 
spurt upon his part, and he had overtaken her. 

It was a beautiful evening, for June had 
indeed, been a “rare” month. Most of the 
students had gone home before the Commence- 
ment exercises, and the house seemed deserted. 
Out in the kitchen Bridget was crooning some mo- 
notonous Irish melody, and the sound came drift- 
ing through the house. Frances had gone to her 
room to remove her gown, and to have a moment’s 
quiet in which to read her letter. Mrs. Fern sat 
by the open window, and Edith was perched 
upon the arm of the big chair beside Mr. Wood. 
His arm encircled her, and she was showing him 
Frances’ diploma. The boys hung over the 
back of the chair, and a stranger glancing into 
the room would instantly have pronounced the 
332 


DIPLOMAS 


big, kindly man the father of the family 
gathered around him. 

Half an hour had passed when Frances came 
running downstairs to burst into the quiet 
sitting-room with : “ Oh, it is truly, truly mine I 
It is ! It is ! And I am to go East in the fall ! 
Think of it, mother, children, Mr. Wood ! Is n’t 
it just too splendid for words?” and she waved 
the letter about her head like a triumphal 
banner. 

“ Sit down and take off your breastpin and 
then tell us all about it. You ’ll strangle if you 
try to talk so fast with that tight collar on,” 
was Mr. Wood’s complacent remark. “You 
should n’t allow yourself to become so excited. 
It wastes your vitality.” 

“ I can afford to lose a little under the circum- 
stances. Just listen to this ! ” 


333 
















CHAPTER XXVII 


“POLLY” THE SECOND 

F RANCES had read the wonderful letter 
which made her Director of the Chemi- 
cal Laboratory in the Stowell Collegiate 
School of B. — at least, so far as it could make 
her such without her signature of acceptance 
upon the enclosed agreement for the coming 
year. 

“ So you think you ’re going to pungle straight 
off East next fall, whether we will let you or 
no, do you?” asked Mr. Wood, when he had 
learned all the particulars regarding Frances’ 
encouraging outlook. 

“ Well, I guess I am! What do you think 
I have been studying for all these years? The 
sooner I make use of my A. B. and my Ph. M. 
335 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


the better for my family, I take it. Oh, mammy, 
won’t it be splendid to feel that I am able to 
settle you all comfie, and that you won’t have to 
work so hard ? ” And Frances ran over to her 
mother’s side, dropped upon her knees, and 
nestled her head upon her mother’s shoulder. 

“S’pose you ’ll be looking for that house out 
in the suburbs next?” 

“ Do you happen to have a small one which 
you will let us exchange for this?” asked Fran- 
ces, roguishly. 

“ Would you take it right off if I had?” 

“I should be almost tempted to,” replied 
Frances, dropping her joking tone. “ Mother 
is pretty well tired out from this winter’s work ; 
for I have not been able to give her anything 
like the assistance I gave before this last semes- 
ter, and a little breath of country air would be 
a wonderful tonic.” 

“ ’T is a pretty sizable house. Sort of rattle 
round in it when the boarders are gone, don’t 
you?” 

33 6 


“POLLY” THE SECOND 


“We are not crowded,” was Frances’ laughing 
rejoinder. 

“ Suppose you come along out to Longmead 
with me after tea and take a look ’round. There 
was a man asking me about this house only yes- 
terday. Wanted to know if you intended taking 
it for another year. Said that he would like to 
take it right off if he could get it. Keep board- 
ers next year. Wants to be ready when the 
students begin to come back.” 

Frances got up from her mother’s side, and, 
walking over to Mr. Wood, planted herself 
directly in front of him, and deliberately stared 
straight into his eyes. 

He looked up at her for a moment, and then 
demanded : 

“ What do you mean by trying to stare me 
out of countenance, you witch-cat?” 

“I am just trying to make up my mind 
whether that man is a real or an imaginary 
one,” answered Frances, as she almost laughed 
in his face. 


337 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Well, I don’t reckon that it is any of your 
business ! So, ma’am ! ” 

“ We will go with you out to Longmead. It 
will do us all good after the excitement of this 
day, and cool us off, too. I may not return the 
lessee of a suburban villa; but the fresh air and 
the ride in these long summer evenings will cer- 
tainly not prove a bad nightcap.” 

Their early tea was over, and they were just 
leaving the house, when the evening mail was 
delivered, and Frances took it from the post- 
man. She ran over the names, and said: “Here 
are some which we must re-address and forward 
to the girls. This one is for you, mother. What 
a business-like looking missive!” 

Mrs. Fern took it, gave a slight start, dropped 
it into the little hand-bag she carried, and said: 
“ I ’ll read it when I have more time.” 

After running back into the house with the 
other letters, Frances rejoined them, and, before 
the hour had ended, they stepped from the trol- 
ley-car at Longmead. The sun was just setting 

333 


“POLLY” THE SECOND 


and flooding all tlie countryside with its glory. 
Every sound seemed hushed to sleep, and only 
an occasional bird-call broke the stillness. 

“ Could anything be more entrancing and 
restful than this?” asked Frances, as she leaned 
over the bridge and watched the water flowing 
softly beneath her. 

“ The Lord knew what he was about when 
he made the world. It *s the people who raise 
old Ned in it. Go dong down and take a little 
pull to stretch your muscles, you and the chil- 
dren/ J 

“But I came out to go house-hunting, not 
rowing, Mr. Wood,” said Frances. 

“ Plenty of time for that later. Go get cooled 
off. We ’ll wait for you here,” and he waved 
them toward the boat tied to the bridge at the 
river's edge. 

Such an enticing invitation as it offered as it 
swayed upon the water was not to be resisted, 
and away they went. 

There were several seats along the bridge, 
339 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


and, walking over to one of tlie farther ones, 
Mr. Wood said : 

“Nice, quiet place to read your letter, Mrs. 
Fern. ,, 

“ My goodness ! I had entirely forgotten it,” 
and she hastily opened the little bag, drew out 
the envelope, broke the seal and unfolded the 
letter. An oblong slip of paper fluttered from 
it, was caught by the breeze blowing from the 
water, and would have promptly gone sailing 
into the river had not Mr. Wood made a wild 
scramble for it and caught it just in time. He 
handed it to Mrs. Fern, who gave one glance at 
it and exclaimed : 

“ Julius Csesar, and all his generals !” 

“ Some of your relatives from the East comm’ 
to visit you ? ” asked Mr. Wood, with a comical 
smile. 

“ Samuel Broadliead Wood, look at that ! ” 
cried Mrs. Fern as she handed him the slip of 
paper. It was a checque for five hundred dollars. 

340 


“POLLY” THE SECOND 


“Eli! What? What *s the matter? Fallen 
heir to this ? ” 

“I earned it! ” exclaimed Mrs. Fern triumph- 
antly. “ Now, let me read this letter ! ” 

It was from the publishing house to which 
upon that day of her memorable walk Mrs. Fern 
had posted the story upon which she had been 
engaged for so many months. They stated that 
they were enclosing to her a checque for five hun- 
dred dollars for the serial rights of the story sub- 
mitted to them, and would like the option of the 
book-rights for their book department when the 
serial had run through the magazine they pub- 
lished. Would she kindly communicate with 
them without delay, as they were about to make 
their arrangements for the coming fall. Further 
particulars regarding terms, etc., could be ar- 
ranged after they learned her wishes concerning 
the book-rights. 

“ You have written a book, and they Ve paid 
you this sum for it?” demanded Mr. Wood. 

“Wrote it last winter. Began it in the sum- 

22 — Doughnuts and Diplomas. ^ 4 1 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


mer. Posted it tlie day you nret me down- 
town minus a bonnet. So excited over mailing 
the manuscript that I forgot my headgear. Never 
heard a single word from the publisher until this 
minute. Let me call the children and tell them 
all about it ! ” 

“ Now, hold in your horses just a minute,” cried 
Mr. Wood, catching hold of Mrs. Fern’s cape. 
“ You can’t make ’em hear if you want to, for 
they are half a mile upstream by this time. 
Besides, I ’ ve got a word or two to say ; so sit 
down and listen.” 

Mrs. Fern turned around to look at him, for 
his tone was a most unusual one. Not since the 
earlier days of their acquaintance had she heard 
him speak in this harsh manner, and she could 
not understand the reason for it. She took her 
seat beside him and he continued : 

“ So ! And you ’ve taken to earning cold 
cash, have you ? Dare say you will be mighty 
independent after this. Frances can keep her 

342 


“POLLY” THE SECOND 


earnings, and other folks can go hang if they 
want to ! ” 

“ What in this world do you mean by talking 
to me this way?” demanded Mrs. Fern with 
some spirit; for she could see no reason for 
his sudden crustiness. 

“What do I mean? This is what I mean. 
What do you suppose has been happening all 
these months while I ’ve been watching that girl 
of yours and seeing her struggle to finish her 
education and support her family at the same 
time? Do you suppose I have n’t learned to 
love her and the other children, too, just as 
much as if they were all my own ? She ’s a 
trump, I tell you ! A great, big, A 1 trump, 
and I want her for my own. Thought I ’d got 
it all fixed up slick, too, when here comes this 
confounded checque to knock everything topsy- 
turvy! Those children need some man to look 
after them and help them fight the world. 
Women can’t stand such a dead drive as you 
and that girl have been keeping up for the past 
343 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


four years or more, forever. ’T is n’t reasonable 
to expect it. And just as I thought I ’d take 
you all out here and settle you comfortable for 
the rest of your lives — the Lord knows I 
could n’t make any better use of my money, 
for my boy don’t need it — here you take the 
wind all out of my sails by telling me that you 
can earn a cool five hundred dollars quill- 
driving ! What will you want with a husband 
when you can earn your own living as easy as 
that, I ’d like to know? And I ain’t never seen 
another woman that I ’d give a single cent to 
make Polly the second.” And up he bounced 
from the bench to stride off down the bridge 
and leave Mrs. Fern to sit staring at him in 
blank amazement. 


344 


CHAPTER XXVIII 
A HOME AT LAST 

P KESENTLY he came striding back, 
planted himself in front of her, and, 
shaking his cane at her, demanded : 
“Did you understand what I said?” 

“Well — I — believe — I — did !” almost gasped 
poor little Mrs. Fern. 

“Then why on earth don’t you answer me 
quick?” 

“ Samuel Wood, do you mean to say that you 
wish me to marry you?” 

“ I don’t mean another thing in this world ! 
Will you do it?” 

“ And at the same time make you responsible 
for the support and care of a family of six 
children?” 


345 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


“ Three of ’em seem pretty well able to hustle 
for themselves; and if they could n’t, it would n’t 
break me to look out for ’em. Three of ’em 
hardly know what a father means, and I reckon 
I ’m pretty well able to show ’em. At any rate, 
I ’m willing to try pretty hard. Ain’t never 
had any little girl to cuddle; and Puss is a 
pretty cuddable sort from what I ’ve seen. 
Don’t think I ’d feel ashamed to own Frances 
for a daughter, neither; and the boys are all 
right. What do you say, little woman ? Will 
you take a rough old codger like me? I don’t 
set up no great shakes for education ; but I can 
love with all my heart and soul when I set out 
to. Polly ’s dead and gone, and can’t tell you; 
but I ’ll bet she ’d say: ‘Sammy, I don’t need any- 
one to take care of me up here in Kingdom 
Come; but there ’s a little woman down below 
there with a big family who has had a mighty 
hard row to hoe. Turn up your sleeves and 
help her if she ’ll let you.’ Will you, Honey?” 

The sudden change from the abrupt, gruff 

346 


A HOME AT LAST 


speecli to tlie tender Southern word (Mr. Wood’s 
father had been a Southerner) was wonderfully 
sweet, and gave a swift glimpse of the gentle, 
chivalrous nature hidden beneath the rough 
exterior. 

Mrs. Fern had always been more or less of a 
puzzle to this big man, and now put the finish- 
ing -stroke to his perplexity by suddenly burst- 
ing into tears. 

“ There now ! There now ! I did n’t mean 
to scold. You did n’t think I was scolding you, 
did you, little woman ? Bless you, ‘ it ’s only 
Sammy’s way,’ as Polly used to say when I took 
to talking big. She never minded a mite, and 
you won’t when you ’ve got used to me. There 
ain’t a single thing to cry about, so just wipe 
your eyes and look chipper again, and say like 
the good little woman you are : ‘ Sammy, I ’ll 
take you for better or worse,’ and if the good 
Lord ’s willin’ it won’t be worse. Amen.” 

In a flash all the hard, anxious years through 
which she had passed since her husband’s death 
347 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


rushed before Mrs. Ferns mental vision, and 
their very thought brought weariness. She had 
been an affectionate wife, and had sincerely 
mourned her husband. Despite her children’s 
love and devotion, her life had been a lonely 
one, and the struggle at times nearly overwhelm- 
ing. All these thoughts were present as she sat 
there on the bridge, with her own small hand 
clasped in the two strong ones whose owner had 
just asked the privilege of letting those hands 
minister to her needs as long as she lived ; and 
over her fell a sense of rest and security such as 
she had not experienced in many a long day. 

Presently she looked up into the kind eyes 
which were noting every change upon her face, 
and into her April nature stole a glimpse of the 
amusing side of it all. A smile replaced the 
tears, and, looking at him with the funny ex- 
pression which he knew to be so much a part of 
her nature, she said : 

u I said once before that bridges seemed to 
be my fate. Perhaps it is you, instead of the 
348 



“‘I’M the proudest man in longmead. ’ ” 


Seep . 349, 


































































* 




A HOME AT LAST 


bridge. You seem to have figured pretty con- 
stantly in my experiences with this one, at all 
events. What fate has done for me in this matter 
is pretty plain, and I ’ll do my best to fill Polly's 
place. What fate has given you seems to be one 
small woman and a big grown-up family to 
plague you half to death," and Mrs. Fern looked 
into the good man’s eyes with a wonderfully 
soft light in her own. 

“ Bless your soul, little woman, she 's given 
me what I 've longed for all my life — two 
daughters, to say nothing of some sons thrown 
in for a bargain. I 'm the proudest man in 
Longmead. Come along and meet the children ; 
they 're just coming in sight,'’ and, tucking her 
arm through his own with a satisfied nod of his 
head and a fine air of proprietorship, he went 
striding across the bridge with the “ little woman" 
trotting along at his side. 

The children soon reached the landing-stage, 
made their boat fast, and came scrambling up 
the bank to join them, too filled with the joy 
349 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


of their young lives to notice anything un- 
usual. 

“ Come along, now, and let ’s go and select 
that house before it gets too dark. Your mother 
has told me which one she thinks she will like 
best, and we hi see if we can’t transplant all 
the ferns to the woods before many weeks pass 
by.” 

Leading the way with Mrs. Fern, away he 
went at a great pace. 

They shortly came to the house where the 
autumn before they had taken their picnic 
luncheon with him, and without a pause he 
marched up the front steps, swung open the 
door, and, taking Mrs. Fern by the hand, led 
her within. 

The house had been newly furnished from 
top to bottom, and was as fresh and inviting as 
it could possibly be. 

“ You are bound to tease me and have a joke 
at my expense, are n’t you, Mr. Wood?” asked 
Frances, laughing. 

35 ° 


A HOME AT LAST 


“ Never was more in earnest in all my life. 
Your mother lias agreed to take a long lease of 
this house, encumbrances and all. The biggest 
one is the owner ; but she has decided that she 
can manage him pretty well, too. Now, all that 
remains to be settled is whether you youngsters 
are willing to take him, too. Are you?” And 
Mr. Wood held out his arms to them all. 

Frances was the only one who grasped his 
true meaning, and she turned first pale and then 
rosy as a pseony. Edith did not wait to ask 
questions, but nestled into the great arm out- 
stretched to protect and care for her, as though 
it were the most natural thing in the world. 
The boys came up to rest a hand affectionately 
upon each of his shoulders. Mrs. Fern stood 
watching Frances ; for she felt that much was 
due this elder (laughter, who had been such a 
stanch support to them all. The girl’s color 
came and went, and varying expressions passed 
over her speaking countenance. Mr. Wood 
seemed to fully divine her thoughts ; for he just 
35i 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 


waited witli the other arm still stretched toward 
her. 

“Is it really so?” asked Frances, glancing 
rapidly from her mother to Mr. Wood. 

Her mother nodded. 

“And you wish us to be your children?” she 
asked, as she moved a step nearer to him. 

“I already have one daughter. Will you 
give me the right to say that I have two?” 

She hesitated no longer, but went close to his 
side. He drew her head to his shoulder, kissed 
her forehead ever so lightly, and said in a tone 
she had never heard him use before: 

“Good Lord, I thank Thee for these dear 
children ! ” 


FOR PREY AND SPOILS; OR 
THE BOY BUCCANEER 

By FRED A. OBER 

This story of what befell a sturdy lad under the “ Jolly Roger" is the kind of 
reading that boys delight in, for what boy does not revel in a “ Pirate Book." 
No one can write so well of the “ Brethren of the Sea ” as Mr. Ober. 

Cloth, Illustrated $ 1.00 


DOUGHNUTS AND DIPLOMAS 

By OABR1ELLE E. JACKSON 

Mrs. Jackson is known as a writer of delightful stories for girls and this is 
one of her best. She may well be proud of the heroine she has evolved, for the 
energetic and lovable Frances is certainly an out-of-the-common young person, 
and her activities are vastly entertaining. 

Cloth, Illustrated $ 1.00 


GYPSY, THE TALKING DOG 

By TUDOR JENKS 

It is fortunate that Gypsy, on his way to America, met Galopoff, the Talking 
Pony, as otherwise another of Mr. Jenks’ charming books for young readers 
might never have been written. It is well to read all that Mr. Jenks tells us 
about animals that talk. 

Cloth, Illustrated $1.00 


FOLLY I N THE FOREST 

By CAROLYN WELLS 

It certainly requires mental adroitness to evolve a “ Forest of the Past ” and 
people it with the creatures of Mythology, History and Literature, but when 
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Cloth, Illustrated $ 1.00 


POLLY PERKINS’ ADVENTURES 

By E. LOUISE LIDDELL 

Nothing could be more delightful than the rare, bright fun of these chapters. 
It is a story to make a child’s face wreathe itself in smiles. 

Cloth, Illustrated $ 1.00 


RATAPLAN, A ROGUE ELE- 
PHANT, AND OTHER STORIES 

By ELLEN VELVIN, F. Z. S. 

Books that help us to a more intimate acquaintance with the habits, traits 
and characteristics of animals are very welcome. The latest addition to this 
literature is a volume of spirited and well-told stories from the pen of Ellen 
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Illustrations in Color Cloth, $ 1.25 net 

Postage, 13 Cents Additional 




Henry Altemus Company, Philadelphia 


RATAPLAN : A ROGUE ELE- 
PHANT, AND OTHER STORIES m & m 

By ELLEN VELVIN, F. Z. S. 

A FEW APPRECIATIONS OF THE ROOK 

“ Not the slightest apology for the book is needed. It belongs with the 
classics for young people of whatever age.” — Boston Transcript. 

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much cruelty is often involved in the treatment of living toys.” — 7 he Churchman, 
New York, N. Y. 

“ If ' Rataplan’ was put down on a table with fifty other story books, nine 
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“ Only a person who knows animals intimately could weave such delightful 
romances around the inhabitants of the forests.” — The Sentinel, Milwaukee, Wis. 

" Cleverly illustrated in color, handsomely bound, and better calculated to 
delight while teaching than nine-tenths of the so-called nursery tales.” — Eagle, 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 

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proper present can be made to a child.” — Recorder , Cleveland, Ohio. 

“ Miss Velvin’s stories ring true, and the spirited treatment of each subject 
entitles her to take rank with the best nature writers of the day ."—Journal, 
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with the traits and characteristics of animals.” — Tree Tress, Detroit, Mich. 

“ It is a charming work, telling of the life stories of several animals in easy, 
simple, narrative style.” — Daily Picayune, New Orleans, La. 

j2mo , cloth , Ornamental. Illustrated in color by 

Gustave Verbeek. 

$ 1.2 5 net. Postage, 13 cents additional. 


Henry Altemus Company, Philadelphia 


*Ihe Little Lady— Her Book 

By ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE 

It has been described as “A Whole Year of Happiness A 


“A daintier bit of child literature has never been written than the exquisite 
story Albert Bigelow Paine has given to the child-world in ‘ The Little Lady — 
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“ A volume of exquisitely conceived stories which will delight any child.”— 
Midland Christian Advocate, Minneapolis, Minn. 

“ A child’s book which is thoroughly natural, and written from the child’s 
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American. 

“ There is a literary quality in this book that is not common among those of 
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" Daintiness may be said to furnish the hall-mark of this little story among 
recent juveniles .” — The Outlook, New York, N. Y. 

“ We would rather be the author of this book than of any metaphysical 
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to write with such consummate skill for the young folks is one of the rarest and 
most enviable talents.” — Post, Denver, Col. 

“ It abounds in the love and the unconscious humor and pathos of the real 
child .” — The Press, Philadelphia, Pa. 

“ Just the dearest book that can be imagined. Mr. Paine is the Prince of 
Story-tellers for little folks .” — Epworth Herald, Chicago, 111. 

“ Mr. Paine tells with quaint and original touches a series of such stories as 
young children delight in.” — Littell's Living Age, Boston, Mass. 

“A child’s story for every fireside, appropriately dedicated to little ladies 
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“ A very happy story of the year's life and enjoyment of a bright, fearless 
little girl.” — Tribune, Salt Lake City, Utah. 


i2tno , cloth , Ornamental 47 Illustrations 

$1.00 


Henry Altemus Company, Philadelphia 


GALOPOFF, the talking pony 

By TUDOR JENKS 

Author of “GYPSY, THE TALKING DOG/* Etc. 

A Few of the Good Things Said About the Book 


“ No child could resist the enticing whimsicalities of a little horse that talked 
once a month like a serial story.” — The Literary Wor Id., Boston, Mass. 

"For a pony to talk is not of itself wonderful in these days, but for any- 
thing with four feet to talk as does the little horse of Mr. Jenks is more than 
wonderful — it is entertaining.” — Times Saturday Review, New York, N. Y. 

“It should be placed in easy reach of all children who desire the pleasures of 
good reading and nice illustrations.” — Church Progress , St. Louis, Mo. 

“ Tudor Jenks has written some delightful things for ‘ grown people,' but tbe 
story of ‘ Galopoff, the Talking Pony,' will endear him to all young folks who 
are fortunate enough to hear even one chapter read aloud.” — Public Ledger , 
Philadelphia, Pa. 

“Galopoft's story is more interesting than is that of many human beings.”— 
Boston Ideas, Boston, Mass. 

** Galopoff seems to have galloped off the pages of A£sop, he is so talented 
and so wise.” — Commercial Gazette, Pittsburg, Pa. 

“ The mantle of Lewis Carroll, author of the ‘Alice ’ books, has surely fallen 
on Mr. Tudor Jenks. Nothing could be more delightful than the rare, bright 
fun of these chapters.” — The Church Militant, Boston, Mass. 

“ The Talking Pony is a character with whom every one, children and older 
people, too, would certainly do well to have a listening acquaintance.” — The 
Criterion, New York, N. Y. 

“It is as enjoyable as ‘Black Beauty' or ‘Alice in Wonderland."’ — Pica- 
yune, New Orleans, La. 

“The immediate effect of reading the first chapters of ‘Galopoff’ to the 
reviewer’s children was to make the father of those children order a dozen 
copies of the book for the fathers of other children.” — The Outlook, New York, 


N. Y. 


“ It ought to be one of the most popular of juvenile books.”— Sentinel, Mil- 
waukee, Wis. 

“ The pony seems as natural under the clever manipulation of Mr. Jenks as 
the veriest kitten .” — State Journal, Lincoln, Neb. 


i2mo, cloth , Ornamental. Illustrated by Howard R. Cort 


$1.00 


Henry Altemus Company, Philadelphia 


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